Warriors: Ice Lake
by Marmotfox
Summary: Many moons after the Great Battle, the Clans come face to face with more hardship. A new enemy has arisen, one that cannot be fought with tooth and claw, and threatens the sacred balance that four Clans must exist around the lake. The Clans must work together to survive, but in a new age with no hope, many have rejected the one thing that makes them warriors: StarClan.
1. Allegiances

**WindClan**

Leader: Trenchstar- dark brown tabby tom with amber eyes

Deputy: Blacktuft- black tom with yellow eyes

Medicine Cat: Redbird- white tom with a red tabby tail and green eyes

Warriors

Torntail- brown tabby tom with a ripped tail and amber eyes

Heatherfoot- light brown she-cat with yellow eyes

Gorsenose- gray tabby tom with blue eyes

Hollowpelt- black and white tom with amber eyes

Springfeather- pale brown tabby she-cat with amber eyes

Tallear- gray she-cat with long ears and blue eyes

Apprentices

Grousepaw- gray and white tom with blue eyes

Blackpaw- black tom with yellow eyes

Elders

Lostear- dark gray tom with a missing ear and green eyes

 **RiverClan**

Leader: Cloudstar- pale gray she-cat with light blue eyes

Deputy: Troutclaw- silver tabby tom with blue eyes

Medicine Cat: Fogcloud- silver she-cat with amber eyes

Warriors

Piketooth- dark brown tom with amber eyes

Hailwind- silver tabby she-cat with blue eyes

Willowbranch- gray she-cat with blue eyes

Milkeye- pale gray tabby she-cat with one blue eye and one cataracted eye

Reedpelt- pale brown tom with amber eyes

Apprentices

Ripplepaw- gray tabby tom with amber eyes

Carppaw- silver tabby she-cat with pale green eyes

 **ThunderClan**

Leader: Snowstar- white tom with amber eyes

Deputy: Tigerfang- dark brown tabby tom with amber eyes

Medicine Cat: Birchleaf- young cream-colored tom with amber eyes

Warriors

Tumblesnap- ginger tom with green eyes

Sunstep- golden she-cat with white paws and amber eyes

Apprentices

Flowerpaw- pale ginger and white she-cat with green eyes

Juniperpaw- tortoiseshell and white she-cat with green eyes

 **ShadowClan**

Leader: Crowstar- black tom with green eyes

Deputy: Marshclaw- dark brown she-cat with blue eyes

Medicine Cat: Hollywhisker- dark gray she-cat with green eyes

Warriors

Yewberry- red she-cat with green eyes

Swampnose- dark brown tabby tom with yellow eyes

Nutmask- brown tom with tabby stripes on his head and amber eyes

Apprentices

Russetpaw- dark ginger tom with amber eyes

 **Other Cats**

Patchtail- tortoiseshell tom with pale green eyes


	2. Chapter 1

**1**

The moor was eerily quiet. The moon, nearly full, hung high in the sky, bathing the land in a silver glow. Huffs and pants and snores sounded from all around the clearing, and the shapes of cats turned over and shuffled restlessly, curling in on themselves to try to ease their hunger pangs. A black tom slid around the sleeping bodies, stepping carefully so as not to place his paw on their tails. A soft hiss sounded from a gray tabby tom, who opened his blue eyes to slits, staring at the other cat for a moment before he closed his eyes again. The black cat carefully moved his paw from where it had nudged the other warrior, then continued weaving among the different pelts. The black tom's breath billowed before his face, his fur prickling and his ears drawn back to preserve their warmth.

He paused beside a rock, looking up at the pinpoints of white in the dark sky. Wisps of clouds trailed over the inky blackness, a few happening to touch the moon before passing on by. The tom lowered his muzzle and slipped into a crevice in the rock, ducking his head instinctively. He called, voice soft, "Redbird…? Are you awake?"

A white tom raised his head, peering back at him and whisking his red tabby tail back and forth. "What is it, Blacktuft?" he asked, sounding a bit grouchy.

"I'm sorry for waking you," Blacktuft murmured, dipping his head respectfully, "but how is Grousepaw?" He looked at the gray and white scrap of fur pressed against Redbird's side. Grousepaw seemed to be sleeping. _Good_ , Blacktuft thought to himself. _He needs some rest._

Redbird let out a soft snort, seeming amused. "He only scraped his paw on some rocks, Blacktuft. It'll heal up before long." He rested his head on his paws and closed his eyes, curling his tail against his side. "Go back to sleep. Grousepaw will be fine in the morning." Blacktuft hesitated, then turned his muzzle to the side. He shuffled on his paws, debating on how to respond to the tom's words. "I know you're still there," Redbird added when a period of awkward silence had gone by with no result.

Finally, Blacktuft dared to speak up, murmuring, "I'm worried, is all. What if Grousepaw catches the sickness from this…? All the other young cats have died from it, Redbird. Any cut or scrape could mean death… couldn't it?"

Redbird's whiskers quivered and he stood up -careful to avoid disturbing Grousepaw- and walked over to Blacktuft. The smell of herbs from the medicine cat's pelt filled Blacktuft's nose as he approached, and he stopped beside Blacktuft and stroked his tail along his flank. "Blacktuft," he murmured, "you spend a lot of time around this sickness, and you've, no doubt, pricked your paws once or twice on thorns in ThunderClan territory, right?"

Blacktuft turned his head to gaze at Redbird fully, his yellow eyes round. "Yes," he responded uneasily, not sure where Redbird was going with this. His tail drooped, his ears twitching, and he shivered at Redbird's touch. Exhaustion pricked at the backs of his eyes. What if he was sick, too? Maybe he had caught it from all this time he'd spent with the sick cats, and he hadn't known! Was that what Redbird was trying to tell him?

Redbird took a step back and, instead of telling Blacktuft that he was sick, simply reassured him, "Then you have nothing to worry about. You're not sick. What reason do we have to believe that Grousepaw will get sick from a little cut, then?" He pattered back over to Grousepaw, standing beside the apprentice's shoulder and looking back at Blacktuft. His green eyes shone with thoughtfulness, and Blacktuft searched them, in case Redbird was only trying to assuage his fears, not tell him the truth.

When Blacktuft was convinced that there was no lie, he murmured, "You're right, Redbird. He'll be fine." He walked to Grousepaw, leaning down and swiping his tongue between the young cat's ears. "Still, Blackpaw and Grousepaw are just out of the nursery. I worry…"

"Tallear gave birth to strong young kits," Redbird told Blacktuft, lying down. He fluffed up his fur to fend off the cold. "Have faith in them. They'll be okay. Go back to sleep, Blacktuft. StarClan knows you need it."

Blacktuft dipped his head again, then turned and headed out from the medicine cat's den. He cast one more look over his shoulder before he crossed the camp clearing, feeling the open air press against his skin. He waded through the small sea of cats until he arrived at the side of a gray she-cat and a black-furred apprentice. He settled down so that the young black cat was curled between them, and the gray cat whispered, "How's Grousepaw?"

"He's okay, Tallear," Blacktuft whispered back to his mate. He touched noses with her. "Redbird told me he's going to be fine. He said that there's no way Grousepaw could get sick with a little scrape like that. He'll be back to training by tomorrow." Blacktuft could sense Tallear relax, resting her head down. Blacktuft pressed tighter against Blackpaw and placed his chin on the ground, too, closing his eyes.

* * *

"Wonderful, Blackpaw! Great work!" Torntail called, lifting his stub of a tail and grinning as he watched the black-furred apprentice stand up with a scrawny rabbit held in his jaws. Blacktuft felt a purr rumble in his throat as Blackpaw bounded back to them, slowing down beside the two warriors.

Blacktuft nudged Blackpaw's shoulder with his nose, telling him affectionately, "You're becoming a fine hunter already, Blackpaw."

Blackpaw dropped the rabbit down on the ground, licking his chest fur a few times in embarrassment at his father's praise. "It's a pretty scrawny rabbit," he remarked with a modest shrug. "It'd hardly feed Gorsenose!"

Blacktuft chuckled and flicked Blackpaw's ear with his tail. "Let's go for one more, and then we'll head back to camp, alright?" He opened his mouth, tasting the air, and then said, "Let's move closer towards Horseplace." The WindClan deputy strode through the swathes of heather, glancing at the sky. It was nearly sunhigh, and clouds loomed on the horizon.

Torntail followed his gaze, his ears drawing back, and then he murmured, "Do you think it'll clear up by the time night comes? We won't have the Gathering if the moon won't come out."

Blacktuft replied softly, "It had better. We need to see RiverClan about the next tribute terms for the moon. The rabbits have been getting scrawnier, but it will be better in newleaf." He lifted his chin and tail, wanting to give off an aura of confidence for the warrior at his shoulder. "We've been managing."

"I'd hardly call this managing," mumbled Torntail, and Blacktuft sensed his eyes flicker to the deputy's thin stomach. Both warriors' ribs showed, outlined by their fur, which had long since lost its glow. "Maybe the other cats are right. Would it be better if we stopped giving our tribute?"

Blacktuft shook his head sharply, replying with firmness, "No. StarClan dictated that there must be four Clans at the lake. We will keep it that way. It may be hard on our Clan, but it's necessary." Torntail fell silent, frowning and letting out a soft sigh.

"Why do only RiverClan and WindClan come to Gatherings?" Blackpaw suddenly piped up, surprising Blacktuft. The tom had been so preoccupied with his own worries for the future that he'd almost forgotten his son was even there. "Lostear told me that there was a time when all four Clans would come to the Gatherings. Like that time with the Battle Against the Dark Forest! He said that the Clans all came together to figure out what to do…"

Frowning, Blacktuft exchanged a glance with Torntail, then answered, "ThunderClan and ShadowClan simply can't make it to Gatherings anymore, Blackpaw. They don't have the strength, and they can't afford to bring their cats so far away from their camps. It's already strain enough for them to hunt."

When Blackpaw still looked bewildered, Torntail reassured the young cat, "You'll understand in time, Blackpaw. There's a good reason for why we take fresh-kill to ThunderClan. There's also a good reason for why we only negotiate with RiverClan at Gatherings. Focus more on your excitement, Blackpaw. I know you were talking to Grousepaw all about it! Your first Gathering! You'll meet so many new cats!"

Blackpaw brightened at these words, his tail lifting again. He continued speaking with the tabby, but Blacktuft let their conversation fade from his attention. He tasted the air again, perking ears and listening to the wind. "Hey, Blacktuft!" a tortoiseshell tom called, bounding over to him. His tail-tip curled at the end and he let out a purr, walking alongside the cat. The faint smell of Twolegs wafted off his pelt.

"Patchtail," Blacktuft gasped, his eyes shining as he gazed at the other cat. Patchtail had been a kittypet, Blacktuft recalled, who had lost his way and ended up a long way from home. Blacktuft had met him when he was an apprentice, taking it upon himself to go meet with RiverClan when the Gathering was cancelled by storms that made the lake turn into a torrent of waves and foam. The two had been turned away by RiverClan, whose warriors had been irritated by the trespassing, but Blacktuft had been able to return to WindClan with a lifelong friend. WindClan, having been in the midst of its decline with warriors dying almost as much as ThunderClan's, had eagerly taken an extra set of paws. When Blacktuft and Patchtail were warriors, however, Trenchstar had sent Patchtail on a mission to go back toward Twolegplace to see if he could find cats who could help them. Now, Patchtail was back, after so many moons! "I have so much to tell you, Patchtail." He drank in the familiar scent of Patchtail's fur, relieved to have it back. "Tallear and I are mates! We had two beautiful kittens named Blackkit and Grousekit, and now they're apprentices!" A strange look was in Patchtail's green eyes, now, and it sent a ripple of unease down Blacktuft's spine. He had to force his fur to remain flat and kept his voice cheerful. "Look! This is Blackpaw, see?" He looked over at the apprentice, then back for Patchtail.

The tortoiseshell was gone. Blacktuft blinked, finding he had frozen in his tracks, and he scanned the moor desperately for a glimpse of Patchtail's fur. He jerked in surprise when a sharp prod landed in his ribcage, and he turned, fur fluffing, only to see Torntail staring back at him with round eyes. "Blacktuft?" the tabby mewed, searching his expression with great concern. "Are you alright?"

Blacktuft stared at him, then looked at Blackpaw, who stared back. He flattened his ears, then gave his head a rough shake and started padding on again. "Yes… Yes, I'm okay," he murmured. "I'm sorry."

"You were mewing someone's name," Blackpaw commented, striding forward a little faster until he was walking at Blacktuft's side. "It sounded like… like 'Patchtail.'" He searched the warriors' faces, tipping his head to the side. "Who's Patchtail?"

Blacktuft swallowed, feeling the heat of Torntail's stare. He gazed down at where he was placing his paws, stiffness in his shoulders. Blackpaw's question was met with stony silence, and he eventually caught the hint and fell into the back of the hunting patrol. Blacktuft raised his head, opening his jaws for another taste of the air, and caught a whiff of lapwing. He surveyed until he caught sight of the bird gobbling a worm from off the ground, then crept to a clump of heather. He ducked inside, stepping through the fronds and lowering his tail. He locked his eyes on the lapwing, coming to the edge of the plant, then braced himself before he leaped out. Blacktuft heard the roar of air in his ears, the wind tickling his whiskers and lapping at his cheeks coldly. Plunging forward with his tail streaming, he leaped as the lapwing began to take flight, hooking it from the air before it could escape and dragging it down to the ground. He pinned it, then leaned down and bit into its throat.

Pawsteps sounded behind him and Blackpaw exclaimed, "That was awesome!" He skidded to a stop by Blacktuft and looked over at Torntail. "You should show me how to do that!"

Torntail laughed, coming over at a slower pace, and he gave Blackpaw a playful headbutt. "Maybe later, Blackpaw. More training on rabbits, first," he purred. "Let's get back to camp."

Blacktuft looked at the other two and smiled around his catch, then started plodding toward the dip that was the WindClan camp. As he walked, however, he couldn't help but think back to Patchtail. He could've sworn his scent had been in his nose. He had heard his voice, just as light and cheerful as it had always been… but the other two hadn't seen him, and there was no sign of him, now. Blacktuft's heart ached, longing for the former kittypet to return to him. Torntail wouldn't believe him if he told him that he had seen Patchtail. The tabby would probably think Blacktuft was crazy! The WindClan deputy chose not to talk about it, and the three of them fell into what seemed to be a comfortable silence. Blacktuft, however, still felt as if ants were crawling beneath his pelt. He longed to returned to Tallear's side, to tell her of this occurrence. Maybe she would understand what had happened.

Arriving at the camp entrance, Blacktuft peered inside of the camp over the crest, beginning to descend down into the dip. Most of the other patrols were returning, cats lying around and pressing close together to rest. Sunhigh was as good of a time for sleep as nighttime, most days. Blacktuft wasn't looking forward to their restlessness after the controversy was stirred at the Gathering again. Every moon, it was the same. He had to fight not to sag, keeping his shoulders up, and weaved around the cats toward the fresh-kill pile. He set down the lapwing he had caught, watching Blackpaw proudly stride to the pile to bestow his rabbit upon it.

"Can I go see Grousepaw?" Blackpaw asked his father hopefully. "I'll be good, I promise! Redbird will hardly even know I'm in there!"

Blacktuft purred and nosed his ear, replying, "Of course, Blackpaw. Say hi to him for me." The apprentice lifted his tail and bounded across the clearing, squeaking as he crashed and tumbled over one of the sleeping cats. Blacktuft heard him shout an apology over his shoulder before he kept running, his tail disappearing inside of the rock. Blacktuft chuckled and turned to look at Torntail. "You'll take them out for a border patrol, won't you? You and Gorsenose?"

"At dusk? Yeah," Torntail answered him, nodding toward the gray tabby form of Gorsenose, who was curled up in a ball against Hollowpelt. "Gorsenose wants to make sure Grousepaw has time to heal up that paw before he does anything excessive. A hunting patrol would be too much."

"You mean Gorsenose doesn't want to hear Grousepaw whining every time he finishes chasing a rabbit," snorted Blacktuft, giving his head a shake. "Young cats these days!"

Torntail shoved him with his shoulder, making Blacktuft stumble, and exclaimed, "Don't say that! You're going to make me feel old!"

Blacktuft let out a mrrow of laughter, "I've got news for you, Torntail: We are old!" He shoved him back, then trotted away from the tabby warrior. "I have to go. I need to talk to Tallear." Torntail dipped his head, and Blacktuft padded toward his mate.

Tallear was settled with a pale brown tabby she-cat named Springfeather. They were sharing tongues lazily, some of the few cats not trying to sleep. Both cats looked up when Blacktuft approached, ears perking, and Springfeather greeted him, "Hey, Blacktuft. How was the hunting patrol?"

Blacktuft halted beside Tallear, smiling at Springfeather and mewing, "It went well enough, Springfeather. We didn't catch much till the end, there, but it was good." He looked at Tallear, sending her a look, and then murmured, "Do you mind if I take Tallear for a moment?"

"It's fine," Springfeather reassured him, though she looked bewildered by what it could be. She gave a small shrug and smiled back, though, and Blacktuft led Tallear out from the camp.

The gray she-cat followed him in silence, not asking what was going on until they had reached another dip some ways from the camp. "What's going on, Blacktuft?" she asked, standing close to him so their noses nearly touched.

Blacktuft flattened his ears, his low tail sweeping as he considered how to begin. "I… saw something," he answered, his eyes shifting to his paws. He scuffed them again, not minding to stop himself in front of Tallear. It was okay if she knew he was nervous about talking about it. He saw her head tilt out of the corner of his eye, but, like always, she didn't rush him to talk about what was bothering him. Blacktuft opened his jaws a few times before closing them in defeat, and then, finally, he simply stated, "I saw Patchtail."

"Patchtail?" gasped Tallear, eyes lighting up with recognition. She had known the tom well, too, since the three of them went on many of their adventures together. She'd never been as close to him as Blacktuft, but she had shared Blacktuft's pain when their partner in crime was separated from them. "You saw Patchtail? He's been gone for moons! Where was he? Did you talk to him?"

Blacktuft's face felt hot with embarrassment that he had misled her. He sat down, and her excitement died. She seated herself beside him, pressing against his side and stroking her tail slowly along his spine. Blacktuft choked out, "He wasn't really there, Tallear… He was… He was just a vision."

He closed his eyes and felt her nose press against the side of his neck. She held it there, then moved her head back and nudged his chin. He looked at her, his yellow eyes meeting her brilliant blue ones. He had always thought her eyes were so beautiful… Tallear whispered to him, her breath warming his cold muzzle, "You really miss him… don't you?"

"Don't you?" Blacktuft croaked, the heat in his face moving to press against the backs of his eyes. He screwed them shut as if he was in pain, bowing his head so low that he felt he could touch his paws with his chin. "We lost so many cats, Tallear… The sickness t-took so many… We didn't need to lose a friend, too." He pushed his muzzle into her fur after a pause.

Tallear rested her head on top of his, shushing him softly as he shook, giving him the occasional lick between the ears. He cherished the feeling of her fur, somehow so soft despite the hunger. Her voice murmured, "Blacktuft… are you sure…? Are you sure it wasn't a vision from StarClan…?"

Blacktuft stiffened, jerking his head back and staring at her in shock. He stood up, taking a few steps back and letting his tail curl between his legs. "Wh-What?" he breathed, his voice shaking miserably. "How could you say that?" His matted fur began to rise, and his eyes hardened with indignation. "That's impossible! Patchtail isn't dead!"

Tallear looked away from him after he said this, wrapping her tail around her paws and hunching over slightly. She whispered, "Blacktuft… it's been several moons, now. Maybe it's time to admit it. Patchtail's gone…"

The WindClan deputy felt a rush of emotion. Part of him wanted to rant and rave at Tallear, but the other part of him wanted to curl up in a ball and never emerge again. He clenched his jaw, his tail giving a few lashes that made Tallear tense as if bracing herself for him to yell. Instead, Blacktuft shouldered his way past her. "I need to talk to Trenchstar about the Gathering," he mumbled as he passed her, then lengthened his stride, his wiry body springing out from the dip and to the edge of the WindClan camp. He faltered when he came to the edge, then took a few steps back and began pacing. He stared at the ground, ears tucked back and claws unsheathing. He let them tear into the grass with every step, his tail still lashing.

He caught dark gray fur out of the corner of his eye and halted immediately, not wanting his Clanmates to see his distress. He faced Lostear, the only elder remaining in all the Clans. The tom's aged green eyes stared back at Blacktuft. Blacktuft was the first to turn his head. "Forgive me, Lostear," he apologized in a soft voice, then clambered over the rise and leaped into the dip before Lostear could speak. He didn't want to hear anyone's advice. Blacktuft's paws itched to take him far away, but he forced himself to follow what he had told Tallear, making a beeline for their leader, a dark brown tabby tom who had lost some of his own lives to the sickness and famine.

Blacktuft padded to Trenchstar's side, halting there and looking at the sleeping tom. He glanced at the sky, then reached forward with a paw and gently nudged the leader. He lowered his muzzle, calling softly, "Trenchstar. Trenchstar?" Trenchstar woke groggily, looking at Blacktuft and blinking sleepily. "We should talk about the Gathering."

Trenchstar mumbled something incomprehensible before rising, stretching each paw. He opened his jaws wide in a yawn, showing off a mouth full of sharp teeth, and then he led Blacktuft toward the other side of camp. He padded around Tallrock, lying down behind it and gazing at Blacktuft, meowing, "What are you thinking, Blacktuft? Same terms?"

"No, we need to get more help from RiverClan," admitted Blacktuft, settling down and tucking his paws under his chest. He pressed his tail against his side, gazing at Trenchstar and hoping his gaze was level. He chased Patchtail and Tallear out of his mind, trying to focus on the Gathering that loomed ahead. "Don't you think? The moor's practically empty."

Trenchstar shook his head, replying, "We can't do that, Blacktuft." He sighed softly, glancing at Tallrock. "RiverClan is straining to give ShadowClan enough, too. They're already tense about it. We are the strongest advocates for lending ThunderClan and ShadowClan help, and some of the RiverClan warriors resent us for that. We can't make RiverClan give prey; we'll risk our fragile peace terms."

"ThunderClan's almost extinct, Trenchstar," Blacktuft argued. "The only way to encourage them to have more kittens after Flowerpaw and Juniperpaw is to give them something of a surplus. They have seven cats left, Trenchstar. Seven! And you and I both know how miserable Tumblesnap is feeling. I… I fear he doesn't have much longer left, Trenchstar."

Trenchstar shook his head, meowing, "ShadowClan is faring just as poorly, Blacktuft. Both Clans are lucky to have scraped together medicine cats. We should agree to the same terms."

"And if RiverClan argues that they should have help from us…?" Blacktuft questioned warily. "What should we do, then? We don't have the amount of fresh-kill to support that, either."

Trenchstar hummed softly, adjusting his position, and then he replied, "We may be forced to agree." When he saw Blacktuft stiffen, he went on, "We can't afford any more tension between ourselves and RiverClan. If we fight… it would mean the end for ThunderClan and ShadowClan." He turned his muzzle away, closing his eyes and sighing softly, "Maybe the end for all Clans."

Blacktuft unsheathed his claws and dug them into the ground, muttering angrily, "RiverClan should do its best to keep things placid, just like us. They have to realize this."

"Cats are young, Blacktuft," Trenchstar reminded him. "The elders and the kittens died, except for the sparse few who could survive, like your kits and two of the kits of Willowbranch. We're all desperate to keep enough prey together, and if the young cats of RiverClan become reckless without the guidance of an elder or of StarClan, we could have a war on our paws."

"I understand, Trenchstar," Blacktuft murmured grimly, flattening his ears. "Is this all we can do? Negotiate for the same terms?" Trenchstar nodded slowly and Blacktuft added, "How do you think they'll take Blackpaw and Grousepaw?"

Trenchstar smiled softly and responded, "Don't worry about your kits, Blacktuft. I'll have their mentors come with us, to keep them close. RiverClan won't be able to take them away from you."

Blacktuft dipped his head graciously. "What about their mother? Will she come?"

Trenchstar hesitated, then asked him, "Do you think it would make you more comfortable?" Blacktuft mewed a yes. "Then I will bring her, also. I need you in the best shape for talking with RiverClan. Sleep, Blacktuft. I know you were awake last night, and you still need to deliver prey to ThunderClan."

Blacktuft rose to his paws, dipping his head before padding back into the clearing. He spotted Tallear settling back down beside Springfeather and made his way over to her. She eyed him uncertainly, but relaxed when he leaned forward and pressed his muzzle to her cheek, murmuring to her, "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Tallear replied, giving him a nuzzle on the cheek in return. "Lie down. You're exhausted." Blacktuft gave her a grateful smile, then curled up beside her, pressing his back against hers. It pricked at him, though, hearing her say that. Everyone seemed to tell him he was exhausted, these days. What about them?


	3. Chapter 2

**2**

"Blacktuft!" he heard a voice calling to him. Hollowpelt. The black and white tom was prodding him in the side. "Blacktuft, it's sundown. Time to take the prey."

Blacktuft raised his head, stretching and yawning before standing up. He shook out his fur, glancing up at the darkening sky, relieved to see that the clouds from before were hardly noticeable, now. Hollowpelt flicked his tail and Blacktuft followed him to the camp entrance, where Heatherfoot and Springfeather were waiting with a small pile of prey. Granted, it was the last of the fresh-kill pile, but Gorsenose had promised he'd be hunting with the apprentices and Torntail by now. Blacktuft leaned down and picked up the rabbit Blackpaw had caught before, following the other three warriors out from the camp. He checked over his shoulder, noticing that only left Tallear, Trenchstar, Redbird, and Lostear in the camp. Redbird was picking ticks out of Lostear's fur while Tallear and Trenchstar spoke with their heads together. Blacktuft felt a wave of apprehension, seeing them, but he carried on out of camp, leading the patrol out. He lengthened his stride when they were on the moor, letting the wind hide the sounds of his stomach growling. He hadn't eaten all day, and he hungered for a morsel. WindClan cats ate after all the patrols were done, when the stars were out and it was frigid. He glanced to his side, seeing the lake shimmering with the golden light of the sunset, and his heart brightened. He looked ahead again, his paws skimming the grasses, now, as energy flowed through his muscles, and his Clanmates tailed him all the way to the stream.

When they arrived, Blacktuft paused at the bank before wading in. He shivered at the icy waters, his claws unsheathing to anchor him to the bottom, and he held his chin high to attempt to keep the rabbit from getting soaked. As he reached the other side, he hoisted himself up, water making his tail droop. He shivered, glad to be on solid ground, and glanced to his left and to his right to see the other cats had all successfully pulled their way through. The lapwing was a bit soaked, but Springfeather didn't seem daunted by her failure to keep it dry. The cats pressed on into the trees, weaving their way through the thorns. Blacktuft had taken this trip into ThunderClan territory many, many times. His paws knew the way, and they stepped precisely where they always had. There was a path that had been formed by so many WindClan paws treading it, and they followed it in the direction of the ThunderClan camp. Blacktuft ducked his head when he needed to, stepping over a root where he had once tripped, and held back a branch to let the other cats through. Before long, they were on approach to the hollow.

Blacktuft padded to the camp entrance, sliding through and wincing as it snagged at his fur. When he pushed his way through to the other side, he was greeted by a sorry sight. Most of the cats of ThunderClan were lying in their dens, mewing in weak voices to each other. There was no point in keeping them all in the medicine cat's den, with everyone sick. Eyes peered at Blacktuft by the fallen tree, and Snowstar was lying on Highledge, looking so pathetic that Blacktuft figured he might not be able to get down. However, as the WindClan cats entered, Snowstar stood unsteadily and scrambled down the rocks, easier than Blacktuft had expected, although still a whisker away from slipping and falling. The white tom approached the WindClan deputy, dipping his head to him and rasping, "Thank you for all your help, Blacktuft."

Pain seared through Blacktuft's heart, seeing how weary the leader's eyes were. He had never seen them bright and proud, but he imagined they had once been, just like Trenchstar's. Blacktuft set down the rabbit in his jaws, replying to the ThunderClan leader gently, "No need to thank us, Snowstar. StarClan gave us these catches to give to you."

Snowstar grunted disbelievingly, responding, "StarClan hasn't shown up in moons. This was by the wits and strength of cats, Blacktuft." He leaned down and picked up the rabbit. "Let's forget about our illusions."

"But you're a StarClan-ordained leader, Snowstar," Blacktuft disagreed, though this conversation wasn't anything new.

He could practically hear Snowstar's reply before the tom said it: "We have all been deceived, Blacktuft, by the illusions of our ancestors and of ourselves. It's time to stop listening to the lies. Whatever we experienced, StarClan is gone now."

He turned and padded toward the warriors' den unsteadily, halting by a thin ginger tom who hardly noticed when the leader approached. _Tumblesnap's barely clinging_ , Blacktuft thought to himself. _Should they even waste prey on him?_ He shook his head. _Mouse-dung, Blacktuft, of course they should give him prey._ He lowered his tail, despising his thought and feeling like he had betrayed the ginger tom by thinking it. He nearly stepped forward to apologize. He looked at Hollowpelt, however, and saw that the warrior's amber gaze reflected his own thoughts.

A cream-colored tom slid past them, carrying herbs in his jaws. Blacktuft called to him and the youngest medicine cat in the Clans turned to face him. "How are things, Birchleaf? Any improvement?" Blacktuft asked the tom, his voice weak from his lack of enthusiasm.

Birchleaf's ears tucked back as he stared back at the older cat, then murmured in a flat voice, "If only." Blacktuft's little smile disappeared as Birchleaf turned away and started toward the other cats, giving them herbs to eat with the fresh-kill the WindClan cats had delivered.

"He's hardly more than a kit," Springfeather voiced Blacktuft's thoughts, her tone quiet and full of sorrow. Blacktuft nodded grimly, watching the ThunderClan cats begin to group together, crowding around the prey to eat.

"Should we go?" Hollowpelt asked Blacktuft, looking at the black tom beside him.

Blacktuft scanned the camp, murmuring softly, "Yeah… I suppose we should." He turned and started walking toward the exit, eager to leave the strong scent of sickness behind, but then he heard pawsteps pattering closer. He paused and turned, seeing Flowerpaw approaching the group of cats.

The pale ginger and white she-cat dipped her head, gazing up at them sadly. "Thank you," she whispered to them, glancing over her shoulder. Blacktuft followed her gaze to Tumblesnap, her father. "Birchleaf doesn't think he'll make it through the night," she added when she saw the deputy look that way.

Blacktuft's heart threatened to burst as he gazed at this helpless young cat, her green eyes shimmering with tears as she stared at the ground. Blacktuft stepped forward and adjusted his position, resting his tail across her shoulders. "I'm sorry, Flowerpaw," he murmured, his heart descending into his stomach, now. He was almost afraid it would shrivel up and die there. "I wish we could've helped more…"

Flowerpaw gave her head a little shake, stepping away from him and walking toward the other ThunderClan cats, leaving Blacktuft's side. The tom watched her as her tail dragged across the ground, and then he turned to the other members of his patrol. Heatherfoot gazed at him, then nodded, mumbling, "Let's get out of here." Blacktuft pushed his way back out of camp, the other cats filing after him. He could feel the heat of ThunderClan's gaze upon his back, setting him on fire.

The warriors started running as soon as they were out from the hollow, bounding down the path toward the stream. Blacktuft was relieved as the sick smell slowly drained away to the smells of the forest. When they came to the stream, they were no longer so damp, but no one complained as they waded back into the water. Blacktuft sensed they were all glad to let the stream wash away both the scent and their thoughts about ThunderClan. Blacktuft twitched his nose as he went, noticing that the ThunderClan border was no longer present. Thinking about that, he figured that ShadowClan hadn't kept their border, either. It was like the two sick Clans had conjoined in their misery. Blacktuft scrambled onto the shore and shook out his fur, as did the other cats, and looked over his shoulder at the forest. He sighed softly, then started running again, wanting to warm up after spending more time in the icy water.

The four cats made it back to camp before long, joining their Clanmates. They settled down together, sharing tongues in silence. Finally, Springfeather spoke up softly, "It's sad." She didn't need to clarify. The other cats knew what she meant.

When it was dark, Gorsenose returned with the hunting patrol, carrying some prey along with them. They set them down where the fresh-kill pile normally was. WindClan cats rose in the dark like shadows, drifting toward the pile with watering mouths. Blacktuft and Trenchstar pushed their way to the front to try to keep some order. Trenchstar grabbed a rabbit, offering it to Blacktuft and meowing through it, "Take it. For your family." Blacktuft nodded to him and grabbed the rabbit, setting it down at his own paws.

The tension was strong among the ranks of WindClan warriors. Blacktuft could feel it, crackling like lightning. Everyone was waiting to see who would get to eat and who wouldn't. If it wasn't for their leader and deputy standing there, they would fight for every last scrap. Blacktuft caught Lostear's green gaze, smiling weakly in an attempt to reassure his father that he would be receiving prey, too. "Heatherfoot," called Trenchstar, grabbing a lapwing and resting it down for her to take. The light brown she-cat snatched it in her jaws. Springfeather and Heatherfoot had always been friends, and Blacktuft always found it off-putting to see the animosity in their gazes when one or the other was given more or less. "Springfeather." A measly mouse for the tabby she-cat and Redbird, her mate. She picked her way through the semi-circle of her Clanmates and grabbed the mouse, her eyes narrowing as she whipped around and headed toward Redbird, who watched her with patient eyes. Blacktuft felt a surge of gratitude toward the medicine cat. He was another calming source for the Clan; he never lost his temper (except if he was awoken for no reason while having a good nap) and helped assuage some of the concerns of his Clanmates.

There was nothing left on the pile. Trenchstar and Torntail were left with nothing to eat. Torntail's pelt was pricking, but he held his tongue, coming to his brother's side to lie down with him. "You can share some of our rabbit," Blacktuft offered softly, gazing at them sympathetically.

"Blacktuft!" Tallear, so normally calm and placid, was suddenly sharp and firm. He turned toward her in surprise, and she glared at him through slits. "Don't share our prey. We have a lot of mouths to feed in our own family. Bring it here. Think of Blackpaw and Grousepaw."

Blacktuft watched the two hungry apprentices, who had gone to sit beside their mother after putting the fresh-kill on the pile. Torntail spoke up softly, "Thank you, Blacktuft, but we're fine."

Blacktuft dipped his head to his friend and his leader, then walked to join his family on the other side of the camp. He rested down the rabbit and sat by Lostear, who gave him a light flick with his tail to show that he honored the gesture. Blacktuft lowered his muzzle again, then watched as Blackpaw and Grousepaw began to eat, crouching over the rabbit. Another pang hit Blacktuft, watching them. Their eyes were so dull with hunger… It was amazing the Clan had stayed together, not to mention that WindClan and RiverClan hadn't broken out in fighting. Blacktuft lied down, resting his chin on his paws. Lostear ate his share next, and there were only a few mouthfuls remaining on the scrawny rabbit for Blacktuft and Tallear to share. Still, they were kind to each other, eating what was there without snapping.

The cats all finished eating, and Trenchstar walked to the camp's exit, standing there and looking back at the other cats. "WindClan!" he called. "It's time for the Gathering."

Blacktuft and his family were busy gnawing and cracking open bones when he said this, trying to get what marrow they could glean for extra food. All of it was gone, now, but they were still trying to find more. Blacktuft shook out his pelt again and stood, beckoning to Blackpaw, Grousepaw, and Tallear with his tail. He murmured to them, "Come on, let's join the others." He padded toward Trenchstar as the tom announced who was coming, and when the cats were together, they started on their way.

 _I remember when the Clans used to have large groups come for the Gatherings,_ Blacktuft recalled Lostear saying to him once, voice full of heartbreak. _All four Clans, not two. The island would be full of cats of all different colors, and every Gathering there would be a new face to see._ Blacktuft strode shoulder-to-shoulder with Trenchstar, and he knew that this wouldn't be the case. He was proud to bring new faces to the island, but it still was not nearly as grandiose as it had once been. He lifted his tail nonetheless, just like Trenchstar, and tried to seem optimistic for the other cats.

When they arrived at the treebridge after some time of walking along the lakeside per tradition, the pungent smell of fish that belonged to RiverClan carried to their noses. Blacktuft stopped at the end of the treebridge, then bunched up his muscles and sprang, unsheathing his claws as he landed on the bark behind Trenchstar. He sank them into the fallen tree, then began weaving his way through the branches as he followed the WindClan leader. The moon was rising higher in the sky, and he sensed that RiverClan would likely comment on how the WindClan cats were late again. He let out a small snort, raising his chin with pride as he crossed the treebridge and jumped onto the shore of the other side. He heard a yelp that made him turn sharply around, fur standing on end, but smoothed it again when he saw that Grousepaw was safe and Gorsenose was taking care of the gray and white cat. The other WindClan warriors landed safely on the shore with them, and Blacktuft relaxed, enjoying the familiarity of this place.

The WindClan cats walked through the bushes and into the clearing, and Blacktuft heard Blackpaw and Grousepaw gasp in amazement behind him. The great tree rose high above, bare branches reaching toward the full moon hanging in the sky. Blacktuft didn't have to squint to pick out the pale gray fur of Cloudstar from among them. The RiverClan leader was crouched on one of the branches with her tail sliding down from it, her gaze piercing as she stared at the WindClan cats. She straightened, lifting her tail and scoffing, "WindClan doesn't even have time for the Gathering, is that it? Or were you scared that snow was going to come and freeze your paws to the ground?"

"I don't think we'd be the ones cold enough to get frozen," Torntail muttered from beside Blacktuft, and the deputy had to stifle laughter.

As the WindClan cats filed in among the RiverClan cats, Trenchstar bounded ahead, leaping to one of the low branches of the tree. He sat up straight, grooming his chest fur before staring back at Cloudstar evenly. He meowed, "It's nice to see you in good health, Cloudstar."

Cloudstar drew her ears back, giving her tail a small lash, and snorted, "You mock me," but she didn't sound particularly offended.

Blacktuft paused to watch the two leaders lightly bicker, but they settled down before long, observing their Clans as they mingled. The black tom ripped his gaze away to look around at the small amount of cats in the grand clearing. Grousepaw and Blackpaw didn't seem to mind; they were gazing around with huge, shining eyes, padding about and tipping their heads from side to side. Murmurs rippled through the RiverClan cats as they noticed the young ones. The other apprentices were nearly warriors and had been around for moons, but Grousepaw and Blackpaw were new. Blacktuft caught sight of the tabby pelts of Ripplepaw and Carppaw making a beeline for his sons. He stiffened slightly, but the apprentices simply seemed delighted to see other young cats. "You worry too much," a mew sounded beside him, and he turned his head to see a silver tabby she-cat gazing back.

Blacktuft smiled back at her and meowed, "Hailwind… It's so nice to see you." His tail curled with delight and the two brushed muzzles in greeting. "You look well." He glanced over the she-cat. She looked half-starved like the rest of the cats, but the RiverClan she-cat's eyes were bright. It was nice to see an excited spirit. "How are things?"

"Well enough," Hailwind responded with a light purr. "RiverClan's surviving! And both of Troutclaw's kits are healthy and strong." She glanced over at Blackpaw. "Are these kits yours? That one looks just like you when you were an apprentice!"

Blacktuft nodded and chuckled, "He has my name, too. He's already becoming a fine young warrior. Grousepaw, too! They're both absolutely wonderful, Hailwind. You would adore them."

"I bet I would," giggled Hailwind, "but I think they're about to get themselves in trouble!" She pointed her tail and Blacktuft followed it to notice Blackpaw and Grousepaw bounding toward the great tree.

Blacktuft stiffened, glancing at Cloudstar as she peered over the clearing, and then he burst into a run, barely hearing Hailwind laugh softly behind him. He called to his sons, who slowed down and turned toward him. Blacktuft skidded to a halt, his tail lashing back and forth. "What do you think you're doing?" he demanded furiously, narrowing his eyes.

Blackpaw and Grousepaw cowered underneath his burning glare, and Blackpaw whimpered, "Ripplepaw and Carppaw told us we could!" Blacktuft drew his ears back and turned quickly, staring at the two RiverClan apprentices.

"Don't go up there," Blacktuft growled to Blackpaw and Grousepaw, "even if the other apprentices say you can. Come on; let's get you back to your mentors." He led them back to Torntail and Gorsenose, who were talking energetically with two cats named Piketooth and Milkeye. The warriors paused when they sensed their deputy's aggravation, and they turned quickly to face him. Blacktuft lifted his tail, standing tall. "Keep a better eye on your apprentices." Then, he whipped around and strode away, padding over to Troutclaw and listening to the sounds of Torntail's and Gorsenose's embarrassed apologies. The deputies sat down together and Blacktuft curled his tail over his paws, settling comfortably by one of the roots of the tree.

Troutclaw glanced aside at Blacktuft, then murmured, "It's nice to see young cats in the Clans. It's too bad we won't have new apprentices in the next six moons."

"I'm betting on Springfeather, though," Blacktuft remarked with a soft chuckle. "Both she and Redbird would make great parents, and I think that they're seriously considering it."

Troutclaw flattened his ears, then responded quietly, "Do you want Springfeather to die?"

Blacktuft opened his jaws to respond, then fell silent, shocked by Troutclaw's statement. He closed his mouth again, struggling to keep his fur flat. He gave his chest fur a few swift licks, then turned his muzzle up to look at Trenchstar and Cloudstar. "It's time to begin the Gathering!" Cloudstar exclaimed above, and Blacktuft felt a flash of relief that he didn't need to continue talking to the RiverClan deputy. All of the cats in the clearing turned toward Trenchstar and Cloudstar, and Blacktuft scanned their ranks, able to easily name and number every cat there. Of course, there were the WindClan cats, and then there was Cloudstar, Troutclaw, Milkeye, Ripplepaw, Carppaw, Piketooth, Fogcloud (RiverClan's medicine cat), and Hailwind. Sixteen cats. Just sixteen. Blacktuft was reminded of Lostear again, talking about how there would be too many pelts to count, before the sickness. Blacktuft took a deep breath and let it back out slowly. How many of these cats didn't even believe in StarClan anymore?

"Before we begin with the terms for the moon," Trenchstar said, shifting on his haunches and lifting his chin with pride for his Clan, "I would like to introduce two new apprentices: Blackpaw and Grousepaw!"

All eyes shifted to the two young cats, who were huddled together beside their mother now, peering out with some anxiety. Blacktuft puffed out his chest in pride, catching Blackpaw's eye, and his son followed his lead. Blackpaw lifted his chin and pulled his tail out from where it was pressed to his side. Grousepaw managed to raise his chin, too, though the gray and white tom was trembling.

Blacktuft took note of Trenchstar's decision to tell about the new apprentices first. His ears twitched, catching the chants of the RiverClan and WindClan cats. The relations between RiverClan and WindClan had been relatively icy for some time, now. This was more than the tradition of mentioning current events within the Clan. Trenchstar was breaking that ice, which could make Cloudstar and the RiverClan cats less openly hostile. Blacktuft turned his muzzle back to watch Trenchstar and Cloudstar again. He supposed Lostear would mention that the two leaders looked lonely, without the other pair at their side.

"Let's get down to business," Cloudstar meowed, adjusting her position on the branch. She strode closer to Trenchstar, her sleek tail swishing as it hung beneath her. She leaned against the trunk of the tree as she peered at the tabby tom, lifting her chin slightly. "No more stalling. The fish have slowed in our streams and in the lake."

"Are you suggesting your cats are starving, Cloudstar?" asked Trenchstar, erecting himself by drawing his paws closer to his stomach.

Cloudstar let out a disdainful snort, answering him, "Aren't we all, Trenchstar? There's no point in denying it. But we need more territory. More places to fish! We can't keep on feeding ShadowClan like this."

"Should we even feed ShadowClan at all?" yowled a cat from the ranks, and Blacktuft felt his fur begin to rise along his spine. He forced it to lay flat, ears drawing back. Relief passed through him when he saw Cloudstar raise her tail for silence from her warriors.

Trenchstar tipped his head, studying Cloudstar carefully, and asked her, "What is it that you're proposing, Cloudstar?" Blacktuft could see his tail-tip twitching with apprehension, and the WindClan deputy clenched his jaw.

"RiverClan should have the territory surrounding the lake," Cloudstar replied to Trenchstar. "The three tail-lengths that we reserved for the travel to Gatherings should be ours. After all, Trenchstar, it's not like you need to use that rule. You're right next to the fallen tree! It hardly affects you."

Trenchstar cast a glance down to Blacktuft, then replied, "Very well, Cloudstar. You may have the three tail-lengths reserved along the lake edge." Cloudstar smiled, looking pleased, and then Trenchstar cut her off, " _Unless_ there's another drought."

Cloudstar's ears perked at this suggestion, a ripple of murmurs passing between the cats below. "You think there will be a drought? Trenchstar, if there is a drought, we'll stop feeding ShadowClan altogether. I suggest you do the same, if you want your Clan to live!" she exclaimed, her eyes widening with horror at the thought. "That territory would be our hunting grounds to keep _RiverClan_ alive, at that point."

"And WindClan would need the water, so if there is a drought, you'll allow us to access the lake water again," Trenchstar pushed belligerently, rising to his paws and narrowing his eyes at her. Darkness fell over the clearing as a cloud covered the moon. Blacktuft felt like every cat was holding his or her breath, staring up at the sky. "This Gathering is over," Trenchstar meowed, crouching to leap down.

Cloudstar stopped him with a mew, "No. It's not over. We still have to discuss rationing." Her pale blue eyes flashed to the sky before turning back to the WindClan leader.

Redbird called from below, ears pressed back, "StarClan won't approve of us continuing a Gathering! They've requested we leave! We can't stay, Cloudstar!"

"StarClan is a figment of your imagination, Redbird," Cloudstar told him, her tone reminding Blacktuft of one he used to use on his kits. The black tom bristled with indignation. She was talking to Redbird like he was a kit who had suggested that there were giant worms devouring all the prey! "The imagination of our ancestors. A few crazy cats thought they saw dead cats." She snorted. "StarClan was just a tool the Clans used to make rules and feel like they had something to put their faith in. The truth is: you can only put your faith in your own warriors." She turned her muzzle toward Trenchstar. "So? Shall we continue?"

"Trenchstar, don't!" Blacktuft heard Redbird call again. The white tom was on his paws, now. Blacktuft could've sworn he could see Redbird's tail trembling.

Trenchstar gazed at his medicine cat, then at his deputy. Blacktuft stared back at him, desperately trying to communicate, _Don't,_ with every part of his face. Then, the leader's eyes shifted to the ranks of cats below.

Trenchstar sighed and turned toward Cloudstar, ears swiveling forward. He studied the pale gray she-cat for a moment of silence, and then spoke up, "Very well. Let us continue." He sat down and Fogcloud slapped her tail over Redbird's mouth before her fellow medicine cat could protest further. "What else do you have to propose, Cloudstar?"

Cloudstar relaxed her shoulders, her expression approving of the tom's decision. "Nothing more, this moon. I just wanted to see if you WindClan cats could think," she stated, then turned. "RiverClan! We're going home." She leaped down from the tree, landing by Troutclaw and Blacktuft.

Blacktuft rose from his seat, looking up at Trenchstar before turning his gaze back to Cloudstar and Troutclaw. The two cats held their heads together now, Troutclaw murmuring in Cloudstar's ear. Cloudstar frowned, catching Blacktuft's yellow gaze before quickly looking away. She turned around, lifting her muzzle to stare at Trenchstar. "You have enough prey to have more kits?" she hissed up at him, giving her tail a lash. "That was conveniently left out in your little report!"

The dark brown tabby bristled, staring down at her and narrowing his amber eyes. "And where did you hear this?" he demanded.

Cloudstar's gaze landed on Blacktuft, whose whole pelt went cold. Blacktuft felt like his heart had stopped, frozen by her icy stare. Then, the pale gray she-cat bunched up her muscles and leaped, climbing the tree and settling on her branch again. "Your deputy," she stated. "Seems like a credible source, doesn't it?"

Blacktuft heard yowls of surprise and displeasure, and he glared at Troutclaw. "That's not what I said!" he exclaimed, projecting his voice to make sure the other cats heard him. He paced around the silver tabby.

"You said that you thought Springfeather and Redbird would have kits," snarled Troutclaw. "You seemed pretty certain that Springfeather would be just fine. WindClan cowards! You're hoarding extra prey, aren't you? Enough to support a queen! No wonder you can still support one of those lazy elders!"

Blacktuft lashed his tail back and forth, stopping in his pacing so he could dig his claws into the grass beneath his paws. "Lostear is a valuable member of our Clan!" he snarled, his pelt standing on end. Troutclaw's tail fluffed up to twice its size, curling. "Besides, WindClan isn't hoarding prey! We're barely managing to survive while supporting ThunderClan, just how RiverClan is to ShadowClan! We're lucky we haven't lost more cats! I was only trying to be hopeful!" He could hear the hisses and snarls of the other warriors in the clearing. He could see claws unsheathing out of the corner of his eye, and he was tempted to lunge at Troutclaw and begin the fight. After all, they'd said that StarClan didn't exist, hadn't they? Well, if they wanted to play that game…

"Enough!" Cloudstar's voice broke through Blacktuft's thoughts. The other cats looked up, too, at the RiverClan leader. "Trenchstar… admit to it. You're keeping extra prey." She studied him through sharp eyes, her pupils slits that Blacktuft could hardly see from his position.

Trenchstar shook his head and mewed, his voice shockingly even, "No, Cloudstar. We don't have extra prey. We're scraping by, just as you are. Blacktuft was participating in harmless chatter. When doesn't that happen at a Gathering?" He settled his tail over his paws, and Blacktuft wondered if he was covering a nervous tic or unsheathed claws.

"Bah! Listen to your excuses," snorted Cloudstar, baring her teeth slightly. "I demand a tribute of prey to ShadowClan from you, Trenchstar. I demand that you increase your tribute by a half, and that shall be given to the ShadowClan cats."

"A quarter," Trenchstar requested, and Blacktuft saw his chest rise slowly and fall just the same. "We will settle for that."

"A half!" called a RiverClan cat from below.

Trenchstar kept his eyes locked on Cloudstar, however, ignoring the caterwaul. Cloudstar stared back. Silence passed for a short time, the two cats leering at one another, and then Cloudstar finally dipped her head. "Fine," she decided. "A quarter." Trenchstar dipped his head as well, signalling the acceptance of the agreement. "RiverClan, it's time to go." The pale she-cat leaped down from her branch yet again, flicking her tail to Troutclaw and beginning to depart.

Troutclaw shouldered into Blacktuft, sneering at him, "Thanks for the help," before he bounded after Cloudstar.

Blacktuft spat after him. His ear twitched when he heard the thud of Trenchstar's paws landing on the ground beside him. He turned quickly, his tail drooping when he saw how narrow his leader's eyes were. "Trenchstar," he pleaded with him, "I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I-I was just trying to be friendly-"

"You just cost your Clanmates precious prey," Trenchstar cut into his sentence, giving his tail a few lashes. "This isn't the time to be _friendly_ , Blacktuft. I don't care what stories Lostear tells. We're here to negotiate terms for the food our Clan eats."

Blacktuft flattened his ears, flinching against his leader's snarl. His heart dropped into his stomach like a stone and he ducked his head. "I'm so sorry, Trenchstar," he meowed, his tail drooping. "I swear by StarClan, it won't happen again."

Trenchstar's expression softened and he touched his tail to Blacktuft's flank briefly before striding away, leaving the black tom to his thoughts. Blacktuft sat down like the weight of the world was upon his shoulders, raising his gaze to watch the silvery pelts of the RiverClan cats disappear into the bushes at the other end of the clearing. He curled his tail around his legs and lifted his head, his eyes turning to the tree and its large, strong branches. How would he ever manage to perch upon one of them and debate with the RiverClan cats? He had cost the Clan a quarter of the prey they caught when they were hardly clinging to what they had!

A familiar scent wreathed through his nose and he felt Tallear press against him, stroking her tail along his spine. "Come on, Blacktuft," she whispered, her breath on his ear. "We should go." Blacktuft met her eyes and saw her glance to a side of the clearing, where a tom was standing in the shadows. Blacktuft squinted and recognized Gorsenose's gray tabby pelt and sharp blue eyes. Fear struck icy claws down Blacktuft's spine. He shivered and rose to his paws, allowing Tallear to lead him toward the other WindClan cats. "It wasn't your fault." Blacktuft felt another stab to his stomach at her words, despite the fact that she was attempting to reassure him. "You couldn't have known. You weren't thinking that Troutclaw would use that against us."

"That's exactly what was wrong, Tallear," Blacktuft murmured to his mate, ducking his head again. "I wasn't thinking."

"No one can blame you for trying to be friendly," Tallear told him, resting her tail across his shoulders, now. "Not even Trenchstar. I know he was angry, but it'll pass. I'd rather you be too friendly than be cold toward everyone. You know that, don't you?"

Blacktuft was silent for a few moments, thinking over her words. They pushed through the bushes and arrived on the shore, pausing again to allow their Clanmates to make their way across the fallen tree. "I don't know how I could ever be leader," Blacktuft confessed.

Before he could even begin to continue, Tallear brushed her muzzle against her cheek and said firmly, "You can do it. I know you can, Blacktuft. You're a strong warrior. I know things seem hard now, but it will get better."

"Will it?" Blacktuft was hesitant to believe that. Nothing had ever seemed to go right for WindClan.

"You'll think of some way to fix this. I have faith in you," Tallear murmured, then nudged him toward the fallen tree. "Don't doubt yourself. One mistake doesn't say you would fail as a leader." Blacktuft smiled at her weakly, then leaped onto the tree's thin end, setting one paw after another and carefully weaving through the branches. He leaped onto the shore at the other side and turned his yellow eyes toward the cats walking up toward their camp in the moorland. His ears flattened and he shuddered at the thought of stepping foot into the hollow again. How could he face his Clanmates after tonight?


	4. Chapter 3

**3**

The sun was boiling. Blacktuft felt it striking into his fur, nearly painful. The air was sharp to breathe in. He lifted his head, peering around the WindClan camp, and discovered it was completely deserted. He rose to his paws, flattening his ears and swishing his tail back and forth, low to the ground. "Hello?" he called, pacing around in a circle. The grass seemed to shrivel up under his paws, the middle of the hollow growing barren. He turned and bounded out from the dip, pausing on the crest and perking his ears. The sound of yowls met his ears, and he squinted against the blazing sun. "Hello!" he called again, springing into the heather and extending his legs to run as fast as he could toward the lake.

Hisses and screeches carried to him, and as Blacktuft skidded to a halt, he sharply realized that he was standing in caked mud. He lifted his muzzle and gazed with horror. The lake was gone! He could hear the cats yowling and hissing, and he turned around and around, bewildered.

He woke from his slumber with a start. He jerked his head up, half convinced to yowl for Tallear to make sure she was okay, but he relaxed when he sensed her warm pelt against his. He brushed his tail along her side, then rose to his paws. He shook out his fur, the freezing night air biting through his winter-thick pelt. He padded to the edge of the hollow and left it, making his way in the direction of the lake shore. His ears perked up, relief flooding through him when he saw the star-specked water lapping at its normal place. He could feel the frost breaking under his paws, only adding to the cold pricking at him.

Blacktuft stopped beside the lake, leaning his head down and lapping at the cold water. He felt only further relief as it washed out the dry taste in his mouth. It had been a nightmare, that was all. It was likely because of Trenchstar's words about a drought, Blacktuft figured. That had to be it, even if a day had already passed since that night. He shuddered again at the thought, sitting down beside the lake and watching the water as it washed up to his paws. He didn't mind that it wet his fur.

For a long while, he sat there, trying to shake off the thoughts in his head. He couldn't stop envisioning Gorsenose, when the Gathering had ended. His eyes had been so cold, so malicious… Blacktuft practically felt the rake of the gray tabby's claws along his pelt, and he dreaded returning to camp. He'd done his best to avoid Gorsenose, but he wasn't the only warrior who had been dissatisfied from the outcome. Blacktuft had caused the Clan more pain than it needed. More suffering than it could likely handle. The warriors were furious, and he couldn't blame them. Yet, he feared for his safety, and for the safety of his family.

Finally, he sighed, raised his muzzle, and squinted at the island. He had to face what he had done there. He had to face the mistake he'd made, or he could never fix it and prove to his Clan that he was truly on their side. His gaze followed the tree-bridge before touching Horseplace, and he rose, taking a few steps toward it. His tail slowly lifted, his heart beginning to glow, and then he let out a yelp as paws slammed into his side. Bewildered, he scrabbled at his attacker, kicking out with his hind legs. Claws pulled at his fur, a cat spitting and hissing over top of him. When they quit rolling, the cat sprang off of him, and Blacktuft was left blinking in surprise, standing awkwardly. His ears flattened as he saw Ripplepaw glaring back at him, his teeth bared in a snarl.

"WindClan cats are pathetic enough to be defeated by apprentices?" sniffed Troutclaw mockingly, giving his tail a few lashes as he joined his son's side.

Blacktuft fixed his posture, narrowing his eyes at the patrol of RiverClan cats before him. A jolt made his fur stand as he remembered the deal made at the Gathering. He quickly dipped his head, apologizing, "I'm sorry, Troutclaw. I forgot about the deal we made." He backed away, moving toward where he supposed the new territory line would be.

Piketooth exchanged a glance with Troutclaw, the deputy grumbling, "Of _course_ , Blacktuft. I forgot. WindClan cats are extremely forgetful, too, is that right?"

Blacktuft felt embarrassment grow within him, heating his fur, even against the freezing air. "My apologies," he meowed again, lowering his tail. "It won't happen again."

"It had better not!" Ripplepaw hissed, baring his teeth in a snarl. "This is our territory, now!" He stamped his paw on the ground, lifting his chin with pride.

Blacktuft resisted the urge to rip the whiskers off the young cat, turning himself away. He dipped his head again before bounding away, feeling the heated gazes of the RiverClan cats following him. When he had landed in a clump of heather, away from their stares, he crouched down, pressing his tail against his side. He narrowed his eyes, shaking out his pelt as if that would shake away the embarrassment. Never mind that, he had an idea! He closed his eyes, pondering over it.

Perhaps he should've gone straight to camp with the thought, but he didn't. He stepped out from the swathes of heather and made his way through WindClan territory, his tail streaming after himself. He slowed when he arrived at the border, though he didn't stop. He proceeded, making his way toward Horseplace, and as he approached, he flattened his ears against the thundering sounds of the large creatures. He picked his way along the strange wooden objects lining where they roamed, keeping on the outside of the area. He angled his ears toward the interior, flinching and crouching low when the creatures ever came close. He set his sights on his real objective: the barn.

However, as the black tom approached the large, closed entrance, a white tom sprang from a hole in the bottom of it, baring his teeth. Hi tail fluffed up to twice its size, lashing back and forth. "Get out of here, Clan cat!" he spat. A few other cats followed after him, their whiskers twitching. "Stay away!"

A ginger she-cat wrinkled her nose, grumbling, "He smells like the sickness!" Blacktuft took a few steps back. "Get 'im, Eric!"

The white cat unsheathed his claws, and Blacktuft stared with wide eyes, tense. "I'll go, I'll go!" he cried out, flattening his ears and backing away further. Then, he turned, bounding away from the group of cats. He heard them chase him, letting out hisses and snarls, but they didn't come close to him before he broke into WindClan territory and made his way toward the camp. Their cackles followed after him.

Despite their warnings and laughter, excitement tingled in Blacktuft's paws. It would take some effort, but perhaps they had a way to fix his mistake! WindClan could eat better and even gain some strength, perhaps… He glanced over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of the pelts of the Horseplace cats as they disappeared back into their barn. Blacktuft laughed to himself, delighted, and leaped effortlessly into the hollow, allowing himself to skid to a halt. The WindClan cats in the camp looked up, surprised by his excitable entry, and Blacktuft's happiness drained out of his paws at the looks on their faces. Trenchstar was standing on Tallrock, his tail swishing back and forth. The WindClan cats didn't look especially pleased.

Blacktuft made his way toward Tallrock to come near to his leader, trying to keep his pelt smooth, and paused when Gorsenose stepped in his way. The gray tabby bared his teeth, hissing at Blacktuft, "I hope you're happy, Blacktuft, because you won't be eating, this night."

Blacktuft dipped his head, a hunger pang crawling through his stomach. He hadn't eaten before he had slept last night, either, he recalled. He took in a deep breath, trying to keep from feeling weak at the mention of fresh-kill. "Blackpaw and Grousepaw?" he mewed, glancing toward his sons. They had paid the price of his failure, too. The apprentices were curled up together, and Blacktuft felt a flash of shame fall over him anew. "Please, let them eat. They're hardly out of the nursery, Gorsenose, you know that."

"Why should we let them?" Springfeather hissed, her eyes narrowing at the deputy. "They should feel the shame of their mouse-brained father!"

"Enough!" yowled Trenchstar, leaping into their midst. The cats backed off from him, parting, and Trenchstar moved to Blacktuft's side. He rested his tail over the tom's shoulders and led him toward the Tallrock, murmuring into his ear, "You shouldn't have left, this morning. It gave them a chance to throw enough accusations at your name."

Blacktuft shook his head lightly but said nothing about it yet. He stopped beside Tallrock with the leader, whispering, "Thank you." Trenchstar nodded to him, then leaped back onto his perch. Blacktuft sat down, curling his tail over his paws and trying to maintain a scrap of dignity.

"I will have no more of this," Trenchstar growled at the cats below. "We have enough tearing us apart. Respect your deputy. He made a simple mistake. Any one of you could've made it, in Troutclaw's presence."

"He should've known better than to even _speak_ to Troutclaw," scoffed Heatherfoot, her fur standing on end. She pressed against Gorsenose's side.

Redbird rose to his paws, and Springfeather looked at him with a small frown. The white tom lifted his muzzle, and the crowd went quiet, looking to see what the medicine cat had to say. Blacktuft felt a flash of awe and respect toward the tom. Redbird had such influence over the Clan… Blacktuft would hate to ever be on his bad side. Redbird glanced over the cats and meowed, "How could we let this happen to us? WindClan is one of the four Clans of the lake. We have a duty to the other Clans to preserve their existence, just as they have preserved ours, like in the times of Firestar. Our warrior ancestors decreed that there would be four Clans, and that is how it shall be! But if we turn against ourselves and our leaders, we will fall to corruption and hatred, for what is StarClan's code? You must obey your leader!" He looked at Blacktuft. "Our deputy _will_ be leader someday. Blacktuft is doing the best he can, same as all of you."

Blacktuft stood, perking his ears. He felt gratitude swarm him for the medicine cat, but a bit of indignancy lingered, too. How could he let Redbird defend him? Blacktuft wasn't a kit! "Thank you, Redbird," he said to the tom, dipping his head to him before scanning the ranks of WindClan warriors. "These are troubled times, I know. I made a grave mistake in trusting Troutclaw not to take my words so seriously. I will regret that until the day I die, and I know that you all have to suffer for what I've caused." He paced back and forth. "I'm willing to make up for that. I'll work harder, every passing heartbeat, to help the Clan. It's going to be difficult from here on out, but it's been a long time since anything has been easy for WindClan. What have our ancestors always done? They have become innovative. Cunning. Strong. They were willing to do what no one else was. We have to do the same." He lifted his chin. "We must find another way to keep ourselves from starvation! I propose that we take Horseplace!"

A ripple of murmurs passed through the cats, and Blacktuft's ear twitched when he heard Trenchstar shifting behind him. The deputy looked back at his leader, his tail raising, and Trenchstar meowed, "There are cats in Horseplace who will fight us, Blacktuft." He clambered down from Tallrock, moving to join the black tom's side. "I know you're eager to fix your mistake, but our warriors could die, trying to take it."

"Yes, I know," Blacktuft murmured, his voice softening as he gazed at the tabby. "But what choice do we have? We're already bone-thin, Trenchstar. If we carry on like this for much longer, we'll be at a huge risk of greencough. We're lucky we've made it this far."

"StarClan wouldn't allow us to die. That's why we haven't had it," Trenchstar responded, looking up at the sky above with a reverent gaze. He lowered his muzzle. "It was my mistake, really, Blacktuft, for ignoring StarClan's demand that the Gathering end. We will suffer more, but I refuse to send our warriors into a fight where they will surely die."

"We're already in a fight like that," Blacktuft told the tom in a soft voice, studying him carefully. He felt a stab of sympathy and newfound respect for his leader. Perhaps Trenchstar hadn't lost his faith in StarClan, after all. The tom surely seemed to regret it. "WindClan will die, with the new terms." He looked at the warriors. "Let them decide, if you really want."

Springfeather sprang to her paws, yowling, "Horseplace! Horseplace! Horseplace!" A group of other warriors joined her, though Tallear and Torntail, Blacktuft noticed with a pang of regret, looked more uncertain.

The cats fell silent when Trenchstar lifted his tail. He looked at Blacktuft. "Very well. We will attack Horseplace tonight," he murmured to the dark-furred tom. "May StarClan help us." He looked at the WindClan cats gathered around them, then flicked his tail dismissively, and the group began to disperse.

Blacktuft padded away from Trenchstar, taking in a deep breath and strengthening his resolve, internally. His friends didn't agree with him… but the Clan did. They had to take this chance. Surely, they were aware of that. He ambled his way through the crowd to join Tallear, stopping beside her and pressing his nose against her ear. "It'll be okay," he whispered to her.

Tallear studied him through wide blue eyes. "We should be careful about this, Blacktuft. If RiverClan notices…" she meowed anxiously.

"They'll know the truth," Blacktuft responded to her, touching noses with his mate. "They'll know we're desperate if we're willing to attack another group of cats."

"We'll be bordering their hunting grounds," Tallear cautioned him, still clinging to her misgivings.

Blacktuft let out a soft snort and shook his head. "Then they'll have to deal with that. We'll make the case that we need that prey. They haven't taken Horseplace. They won't be losing anything. Maybe there'll be some border tension, but there already is going to be, since they took the land along the shore of the lake."

Tallear gave a small nod again, laying her tail over her paws and letting out a soft sigh. She looked at the other cats in camp, then mewed, "Blackpaw and Grousepaw will want to come with us. You know that, don't you?"

"Of course I do," Blacktuft replied, sitting down beside her and pressing against her side. He stroked his tail along her spine. "They want to become warriors someday! They'll be eager to see as much of this as possible. But don't be afraid. I'm sure Trenchstar won't let them fight, this early on in their apprenticeship."

"And you're sure about that?" asked Tallear, her voice barely a whisper. She searched his gaze with her own, wanting the utmost confirmation.

Blacktuft nodded, smiling at her weakly. "He wouldn't want to give up the future of the Clan for the sake of pride." He nuzzled the side of her head, Tallear pushing her nose into the side of his neck. He continued to stroke her spine, letting out a soft sigh of contentment.

"Blacktuft! Blacktuft!" the deputy heard Grousepaw calling. He opened his eyes and pulled his head away from his embrace with Tallear, watching his kits run to them. He resisted the urge to purr at the excitement in their eyes. He didn't want to embarrass them! The gray and white apprentice skidded to a stop in front of Blacktuft, meowing, "Are we gonna come to the battle, too? Will you let us? Please? Please?"

Blacktuft let out a _mrrow_ of laughter, unable to hold that back. He replied, "Yes, yes, Grousepaw. You'll be coming with us."

"But _only_ to watch," Tallear warned the apprentices, leaning her head forward and brushing her chin against the top of Blackpaw's head, ruffling his fur. "You're not fighting yet."

Blackpaw let out a huff, "But we're warrior apprentices! We wanna help!"

Blacktuft gave his head a small shake and told the pair of them, "You're not near far enough into your training yet. You need more time to work with your mentors." He smiled lightly. "Don't worry. You'll have your chances, someday."

"I want someday to be _now_ ," Grousepaw told his father irritably, his fur puffing up and his tail giving a few lashes.

Blackpaw lifted his chin indignantly, declaring, "We're fit to fight! We're fit to fight!"

Blacktuft exchanged an amused glance with Tallear and told Blackpaw and Grousepaw as seriously as he could, "I'll make you stay here, if that's what it takes to keep you out of it. You could always stay in the nursery like kits."

Blackpaw bristled, gazing at Blacktuft in shock, as if he'd just given him the most horrid curse. "We'll watch," he stated, though he didn't look particularly happy about it.

Blacktuft nodded to the two young cats, appeased by their agreement. "Good," he purred with a little smile. He fluffed up his fur when an icy wind stirred, brushing through his ear fur. "Let's get hunting, then." He stood and shook out his pelt. "I need to run around to warm up." He glanced around, then padded toward the center of the camp. "Torntail!" The brown tabby looked up. "Take Hollowpelt and Blackpaw with you to the Horseplace border! I'll take Springfeather and Tallear with me toward ThunderClan's." Torntail dipped his head and led the apprentice and the other warrior out of camp with him.

Springfeather padded over to join Blacktuft and Tallear, stopping by the pair. Blacktuft watched as Blackpaw ran to catch up with his mentor, the tip of his tail curling as warmth filled his heart. Grousepaw made his way past them to join Gorsenose, who was busy grooming his fur. Blacktuft let out a sigh, feeling himself more at peace than he had been since the Gathering. "Nice save," Springfeather muttered to the deputy as they walked out of camp.

Blacktuft let out a small snort, but otherwise he didn't respond to her words. He increased his pace, lengthening his stride to come closer to the ThunderClan border. "How were they, last time you came?" Tallear panted as they slowed down.

"Tumblesnap is still alive, amazingly," Springfeather told her, ears perking up. She had been the one to lead the patrol into ThunderClan, the night before. Tallear had strongly cautioned Blacktuft not to go with the group, worried for his safety in the aftermath of the Gathering. "From what Heatherfoot told me, I thought for sure he'd have fallen apart."

Blacktuft purred, "Thank StarClan." He remembered Flowerpaw's words, _Thank you… Birchleaf doesn't think he'll make it through the night._ Most vividly, though, he remembered the pain dripping from the words when they came from her mouth. _ThunderClan has suffered so much. They don't need another death,_ Blacktuft thought to himself. "Do you think the sickness is losing its power?"

"Even if it is," meowed Tallear tentatively, "it's going to take a long time for the prey to recover, isn't it?"

"And what will we do if it comes back next newleaf?" whispered Springfeather, shuddering as she thought of it. "I don't think ShadowClan and ThunderClan could take that."

Blacktuft sighed softly. "No. They couldn't," he murmured, drawing his ears back. Still, he hoped desperately that it was letting up. The Clans could take a bit of a reprieve.

"Hey! Look at that!" whispered Springfeather, pointing her nose and widening her eyes slightly. Tallear and Blacktuft followed her nose and spotted a tortoiseshell-and-white she-cat stumbling along the bank of the stream.

Tallear and Blacktuft exchanged a frightened glance, Blacktuft gasping, "Is that-?"

"Juniperpaw!" Tallear yowled, bounding ahead of the other two WindClan cats. The ThunderClan apprentice didn't seem to hear her. Her eyes were wide and foggy from fever, her body shaking, and she continued to stumble. Blacktuft and Springfeather fought to catch up with their Clanmate. Blacktuft's heart raced in his chest, and he was sure Springfeather felt the same.

They'd seen this before. When cats had such a severe case of the sickness, they seemed to turn dumb. They'd wander and stumble about as if they had suddenly turned blind. When Blacktuft was an apprentice, a WindClan warrior who had happened to catch it was kept away from camp to protect the rest of the Clan. One day, on their way to the ThunderClan border, a WindClan patrol was horrified as the warrior stumbled around until he lost his balance on the bank and plunged into the stream. He had simply floundered, not truly seeming to realize his situation, and let the stream carry him to the lake. The WindClan cats had tried to catch up, but long before they could, the warrior was trapped in the water. They'd waded in to their shoulders, but they were forced to watch him drown. WindClan cats didn't know how to swim beyond natural instincts, and the leader of the patrol had elected that they should let him go. He was going to die anyway.

Tallear wasn't about to let it happen again. She, unlike Blacktuft, had been there to see it with her own eyes. The gray she-cat's paws barely seemed to touch the ground, and she let out a high-pitched wailing, trying to catch the tortoiseshell's attention. She sprang from the bank with powerful hind legs, and Blacktuft could've sworn he'd never seen a cat jump so far. She nearly made it to the other side! She splashed into the water, but she quickly scrabbled onto the other side, racing to Juniperpaw's side and pushing her shoulder against the she-cat, knocking her to the ground. Juniperpaw floundered sluggishly, her jaws opening and closing, and Tallear stood over her.

Blacktuft and Springfeather crossed the stream, slowing down, now that the rescue had been done. When they reached the other side, Blacktuft could hear Tallear's heaves as she worked to catch her breath. They were already starting to slow and deepen when they approached, but Tallear's chest was still working hard. She looked up at Blacktuft, her eyes shimmering. "I couldn't… I couldn't let her…" she whimpered, her tail drooping to the ground.

"I know, I know," whispered Blacktuft, closing the distance between them and placing his head on top of hers. He pressed his flank to her side, their wet fur brushing. He held his head there for a moment, then moved it to lick her fur the wrong way, wanting to warm her up against the wind. "You saved her, Tallear. It's okay."

Springfeather crouched down by the ThunderClan apprentice's head, watching Juniperpaw as the she-cat's spit began to foam at the edges of her mouth. She grabbed her by the scruff, pulling her onto her paws so the spittle would fall from her mouth instead of falling back into her throat. Tallear's rescue would've been useless if Juniperpaw started choking in the aftermath.

"I-I guess I did…" Tallear whispered, staring at Juniperpaw with grief-filled eyes. "B-But for what…? She's going to die, isn't she? She's too far along…"

Blacktuft looked at Juniperpaw, his heart sinking. There was so little he could say… Tallear was right, of course. Juniperpaw was even worse off than Tumblesnap had been, when Blacktuft last saw him. The sickness had reached her mind now. No cat ever seemed to recover from that. "Th-There's always a chance," he told the gray she-cat, looking at her. He could see she wanted to believe him, but there was doubt lingering in her eyes. "Always. We have to take it. Let's get her back to the ThunderClan camp." He nodded to Springfeather, who began to prod the tortoiseshell in the right direction.

Blacktuft kept Tallear close to his side as they ventured along the beaten path. "Juniperpaw!" a wail sounded through the trees when they were halfway there, and Flowerpaw burst from the brush, panting hard. The apprentice's green eyes were tired, but the fact that she had run there was a testimony to a promise of strength. Blacktuft only hoped the sprint hadn't drained all of it. Flowerpaw glanced at the WindClan cats, then moved to press against Juniperpaw's side. Springfeather backed up to let her. Flowerpaw dipped her head, panting, "Th-Thank you… Thank you." She looked at them for a few moments. "I'll take her from here."

Blacktuft gave a small nod to her, meowing, "You're welcome, Flowerpaw. Any time you need it." He brushed his tail along Tallear's flank again, and Flowerpaw nodded meekly. She helped Juniperpaw toward the camp without another word to the WindClan cats. Silently, Blacktuft turned his patrol around and started toward the stream. He was glad that Tallear had been there, but he wondered if it had been the right thing. Flowerpaw seemed relieved, and he was glad to give her some solace instead of leaving her to wander while her half-sister drowned, but what about Juniperpaw? Was this truly right, to leave her to suffer all the more?

The WindClan cats crossed the stream, and their deputy concealed a heavy heart once more. He beckoned with his tail, beginning to run to warm up his fur. No matter what had happened with Juniperpaw, the Clan still needed to be fed. They had to keep moving.


	5. Chapter 4

**4**

"If you dare leave my side, I'll claw your ears off personally," hissed Tallear at her sons, her tail sweeping back and forth.

Blacktuft leaned over to Blackpaw and Grousepaw, warning them, "She means it, you know."

The waning moon was high in the sky. The silver light wasn't as strong as it would be if it was full, but, even in the night, the area was decently lit. Luckily, none of the cats among them were fully white, though Tallear had smeared mud onto her pale pelt to keep her from being noticed so easily. She'd done the same to Grousepaw, bearing with the sounds of his complaints and protests throughout the process. Blacktuft was jealous of her stubbornness, he knew that for sure.

Blackpaw moved closer to his father's side, seeming pleased that the deputy was near to them instead of running ahead with Trenchstar. Blacktuft had warned them that he'd have to advance to the front soon enough, but he would walk most of the way beside them. The cats crept through the heather, the Horseplace coming into sight from the rise they were crouched upon. They slipped through the shadows, ducking into a rut. The barn grew larger before their eyes, the wind blowing from the lake causing the huge doors to creak eerily.

Blacktuft sensed Blackpaw shudder slightly, and Blacktuft whispered to him, "Don't worry. Just stay back with Tallear, and you'll be fine." Blackpaw nodded, and Blacktuft weaved his way past the other cats, soon coming to Trenchstar's flank. The dark brown tabby exchanged a glance with his deputy, then peered at the barn.

The leader unsheathed his claws and Blacktuft followed his lead, and the pair of them broke over the crest, bounding across the open distance between them and the barn. A flash of ginger fur slammed into Trenchstar, the she-cat from before snapping and spitting furiously. Blacktuft let out a battle cry as Eric flew from the darkness, his white pelt catching the light of the moon. Blacktuft dodged to the side as Eric soared past him, the rogue's claws merely brushing through his fur. Other cats leaped out from the barn, rushing the Clan cats and trying to defend their home.

Yowls filled the air, and Blacktuft was reminded of his dream of the blazing sun. He was distracted momentarily by the thought, and it was enough for Eric to land on his back, toppling him over. Blacktuft rolled, crushing him under his weight, though as he gained his paws he was startled. Eric swiped his claws across Blacktuft's whiskers, and Blacktuft hissed when he tore some clean from his muzzle.

Blacktuft backed up, his ears twitching and swivelling as he heard his Clanmates fighting, but all his focus was on Eric. The white cat circled with him, his eyes not straying away from the WindClan deputy for a single instant. Then, they lunged forward, body crashing against body. Blacktuft twisted on his hind paws, pushing Eric down as he gained a hold on the tom's scruff. Eric scrabbled at him, battering Blacktuft's shoulder and forcing the black cat to rear back. Luckily for Blacktuft, he was able to pull away before Eric could slash his vulnerable underbelly.

Blacktuft panted, already beginning to feel the effects of his starvation. His paws trembled under him, but he sank his claws into the ground, desperate to hold himself together. He lashed his tail back and forth, crouching low as he remained rooted on the spot. Eric bared his teeth in a snarl, his nose wrinkling and his pupils contracting. Eric was the first to lunge, this time, and Blacktuft rushed forward, using his smaller, thinner body to slide under him. When Eric landed on the other side, confused, Blacktuft spun, slashing his claws against Eric's back leg and feeling a flash of satisfaction when he saw droplets of blood wet his claws. Eric stumbled, though he turned back toward Blacktuft, determined to keep up with the fight.

Again, they hit each other, and Blacktuft could hear Eric's heavy breathing as the white cat snapped at his ear. All that existed was the pair of them as they tangled, trying to gain superiority in the fight. However, Eric had been eating better, and Blacktuft suddenly realized that he was weakening faster than the other tom. Blacktuft leaped back, his cheek stinging from where claws had scraped against his skin. Blood trickled into his eye from a scratch on his forehead, and he shook his head, blinking rapidly to try to clear it. Eric, too, was injured, but neither of them were finished.

That is, until Blacktuft heard a cry of terror that sounded far too familiar for his comfort.

He spun, locating the source, and saw Blackpaw backing away from a gray she-cat, cornered by the Horseplace fence. Blacktuft spat when Eric caught him on the flank, and he kicked at him with new strength. Eric, stunned by Blacktuft's sudden energy, was forced to release him, and Blacktuft ran. He ran through the thick of the fighting, ducking past Trenchstar and Gorsenose as they fought the ginger she-cat. He scraped by getting knocked over by Torntail as he struggled with a tabby. Blacktuft dug his claws into the ground with each step, sprinting with all the energy left within him.

The gray she-cat lunged, her claws outstretching, and Blacktuft watched with horror as she bowled over his son, her claws digging for his neck. Then, the WindClan deputy surged forward, crashing into her flank. He let out a ferocious snarl, swiping and clawing. Red flashed in his vision, and he wanted nothing more than to bring harm upon his son's attacker. A yowl ripped from his throat with a fierceness he never thought he could muster. The gray she-cat was wailing, but she was like prey under his claws. She couldn't escape him, and Blacktuft felt pleased at the blood gushing from the scrapes he'd inflicted upon her.

He was surprised by himself, inwardly. So much within him was screaming at this gray she-cat. No emotion -not even his love for Tallear- had been so passionate and so intense. It was powered by the stir within him that was aware that he might have been too late. It was powered by his frustration toward the RiverClan cats, with their upturned noses and smirking mouths. It was powered by his sense of helplessness toward the dead and dying in ThunderClan and ShadowClan. It was powered by how much he missed Patchtail and his mother and his mentor. He refused to lose one more. Not one more, not one more.

He was finally ripped from a few moments that had seemed like hours when paws shoved into his flank. They were sheathed, however, and as he stumbled back and his vision cleared, he recognized that it was Tallear who had stopped him. "Blacktuft, stop!" she had been crying, and only now did he realize so. He flattened his ears at her wide eyes and bristling fur, and he looked at the gray she-cat, who was wheezing on the ground, unable to draw in another breath. He backed away, painfully aware of the sticky, warm liquid coating his paws.

Blacktuft couldn't pull his gaze away from the rogue as her eyes glazed over and she went limp forever. All the energy and intensity had been taken from him by his mate. He was robbed of the passion, but he didn't miss it. His body felt as if frozen in ice, and his paws felt too heavy to lift. He swallowed, but his throat was too dry. He was vaguely aware of Tallear helping Blackpaw to his paws, but the relief within Blacktuft was bittersweet.

His kit had been saved at the cost of another's.

* * *

The attack on Horseplace was a success. The WindClan warriors had driven off the rogues who lived in the barn, though it was at the cost of several injuries. They limped their way back to camp after visiting the stream to wash off their pelts, and Blacktuft trailed at the back of them, watching the cats disappear into the hollow ahead. He lingered on the edge of the hollow's declining slope, his tail-tip twitching.

The other warriors were settling in the clearing, helping each other lick wounds while Redbird ran among them, tending to them. He saw Blackpaw, first, making sure that the youth of the Clan was cared for. Blacktuft saw the white tom's shoulders fall with relief when he gave the verdict that the apprentice was going to be okay. Redbird glanced over at Blacktuft, trying to send the deputy a reassuring look, but Blacktuft didn't meet his gaze from where he stood.

Blacktuft's chest felt like it was full of burning coals; heavy and aflame. It stirred a restlessness within him. He wished he could go running across the moor, and his paws even itched for him to do so. He was exhausted, and his whole body trembled slightly, but he wanted to expel the negative sparks within him. Instead, he simply stood there, taking in the cats as Redbird travelled from one to the next, applying herbs and granting advice.

No one had spoken to Blacktuft on the way back, a fact that Blacktuft was grateful for. He had broken the warrior code, and he despised himself for it. He despised himself for setting a bad example for his Clanmates by acting so emotionally… How could he lead a Clan if he was shaken in battle like that? Sure, Blackpaw mattered deeply to him. He was proud of his son, and he didn't mind that he loved him, but he wished he had saved him and stopped there. Instead, his actions were soured by the murder he had committed that night.

At the same time, Blacktuft also felt terribly lonely. Standing on the crest of the hollow, he was aware that no one would come to see him because they all didn't know what to say. Not even Trenchstar was sure how to handle the black tom. Blacktuft had ostracized himself from his Clanmates. Finally, he limped away from the ridge, padding to a clump of heather some ways from the camp. He settled in the midst of the plant, curling up in a ball and flattening his ears to hide them from the frigidity. The cold was cutting into his scratches and scrapes like an icicle was being dragged through them. He shuddered, fluffing up his fur in attempt to warm himself up, but little changed for the cat.

He lifted his head when he saw a white flake drift down in front of his nose. He tipped his head, then looked up at the sky for the first time since the battle, noticing how rapidly the clouds had gathered. The snowflakes were multiplying, tracing swirls in the night air and landing down in the crisp grass. Blacktuft tucked his tail against his side, though his eyes were wide as he observed. In the morning, he imagined, the world would be turned white. He was witnessing it as it began… A fierce, icy wind brushed past the heather clump, and he was glad that he had hidden in its midst. The other cats in the WindClan camp would be gathering in the little badger sets within it, he imagined.

"Blacktuft?" called a cat, and the black tom perked his ears. He shuffled to the side, fluffing up his fur again and swishing his tail back and forth as a silver muzzle poked into the bush.

"Lostear?" Blacktuft called his father's name in surprise, startled when he recognized that it was the dark gray tom who had come to visit him.

Lostear studied Blacktuft, asking him softly, "Should I go? Or can I stay with you?"

"You can stay," Blacktuft replied, dipping his head and shuffling to the side to let the elder settle down beside him. Lostear lied down and Blacktuft huddled against him, grateful for his warmth and his reassuring company.

The pair sat in silence for a while, steeled against the wind by the shelter of each other within the heather. Blacktuft and Lostear watched the snowflakes swirl down in cascades, and Blacktuft tried to empty his mind so he wouldn't become tense. He felt comfortable with his father, but he figured that thinking about what had happened at all would make him tense around anyone.

"When your mother died from the sickness, I was miserable," Lostear murmured to the cat, his gravelly voice grim. "I thought I'd lost everything. My hope, my future… I could've been in your position now, Blacktuft, but Trenchstar saw that I was ruined… and old." He gave a small chuckle to add some levity, but Blacktuft couldn't muster his own laugh. He was reminded of the own pit in his stomach that had formed when his mother had passed. He burrowed his nose into Lostear's shoulder, screwing his eyes shut. "I know you're scared, Blacktuft, and you didn't mean what you did back there."

"Tallear told you?" Blacktuft croaked, shivering as he sensed his eyes try to shimmer. He kept his muzzle in Lostear's fur, not pulling it out. He hoped Lostear had heard him properly…

Considering how many times Blacktuft had pushed his face into his father's fur, Lostear seemed to translate the muffled sounds perfectly. "Yes, she told me," he answered, stroking his tail along Blacktuft's spine a few times. "But not until I asked what had happened."

Blacktuft felt a small splash of relief. "No one is spreading rumors?" he asked hopefully, his ears tucking back and raising his head so his eyes could search Lostear's.

Lostear smiled at him gently and responded, "I think this Clan is too small for any tales to go around. The real story's already out, I think. Tallear and Blackpaw are making sure it isn't misconstrued." Blacktuft relaxed and dug his nose back into Lostear's fur again, shivering.

"I feel so awful," the deputy whispered to his father. "I w-was trying to save Blackpaw… I didn't mean to lose control like that. I was just so _scared_. I thought I'd lose him, l-like so many others."

"It doesn't justify a murder," Lostear warned him. "Warriors don't kill to win their battles."

Blacktuft nodded quickly, removing his muzzle and turning his head away. He stared out at the landscape, watching the snowflakes swirl as they planted themselves into the grass. He sucked in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. "I know," he murmured. "I've made a fool of myself, and I've been an awful example to the Clan. I don't know how I can face them again, Lostear… Wh-What have I done? I took the life of another cat! I… I killed her! I killed her…"

Lostear nuzzled him gently and whispered, "Listen, Blacktuft. You killed her, yes. This is true. You made a big mistake, and you feel guilty for it. What matters now is what you do in response to that. How will you make up for it to your Clan and to yourself?" He let that sit with the black tom for a moment, then went on, "The warrior code is what guides our Clans. Even through the horrible tragedies we've experienced in the Clans, we must stay strong and follow it. So make up for how you broke it. Show StarClan that you are faithful."

"What if StarClan isn't there?" Blacktuft questioned, lifting his muzzle slowly to glimpse the silver dots glimmering in the sky. He was hesitant to speak each word. "RiverClan seemed so certain. Even Trenchstar turned his back on them…"

"And look what he got for it," Lostear reminded him, running his tail along Blacktuft's flank another time. "StarClan is our way. Our ancestors. We must look to them for guidance. StarClan is what makes us into Clans in the first place, otherwise, we'd be groups of rogues, and we would have left this sacred place long ago."

Blacktuft glanced at him, asking in a croaking voice, "Should we have…? Maybe StarClan wants us to leave… Maybe StarClan wants us to run away from this place. Maybe they're waiting for us in a different place…"

"Last time we left our home, in the times of Firestar, StarClan granted the quest to a group of cats who paved the way. Those cats received a prophecy from our ancestors," Lostear told the tale.

Blacktuft nodded and mumbled, "I remember that story from the elders…" He painfully remembered his apprenticeship days, when cats were beginning to become sick. There had been a number of elders, then, though only two of them had been deemed safe for the apprentices to tend: Hareflight and Crowtail. Both had passed in the coming moons. He wished he could remember their faces more vividly. What were the colors of their eyes again?

Lostear continued, "The group of cats were from each Clan. The cat from our Clan was Crowfeather. While the RiverClan and ThunderClan and ShadowClan cats had a brother, sister, or friend on the journey, Crowfeather was on his own. They each received the same dream, referring to a new land. They travelled on this path and met a badger named Midnight who showed them the way. They returned to the Clans, bringing them across unknown lands and to their new home: the lake. And here we are. Until StarClan ordains a cat and sends them a dream, we won't be going anywhere."

"I'm amazed RiverClan has stayed where they are," Blacktuft admitted, remembering how Cloudstar had tested the WindClan leader so boldly against StarClan's testament. "I would've expected them to leave by now."

"It's good that they've stayed," Lostear murmured. "We wouldn't be able to handle both ThunderClan and ShadowClan without them." He let out a small sigh. "But I think they're afraid to go on their own."

Blacktuft rested his chin back down on the ground, and the two toms fell silent. Blacktuft let his mind wander back to the battle and his dream, remembering the scorching sun and the yowling of the cats. He must have been worrying about what would happen in the battle, too, he supposed. He frowned to himself, then shifted his thoughts, trying to find something else to ponder over. His mind drew back to Patchtail and the conversation he'd had with Tallear. Maybe… Maybe Lostear could tell him something about it. "I saw Patchtail," he spoke up tentatively, frightened that Lostear would think he was crazy or assume Patchtail was from StarClan. Strangely, Blacktuft wasn't sure which one he was more afraid of.

Lostear blinked in surprise, then looked over at Blacktuft. For once, the dark gray tom didn't seem sure about what to say. "How do you feel about that…?" he questioned cautiously. Maybe he was afraid to say what he had on his mind, Blacktuft figured.

Blacktuft pressed harder against Lostear, telling himself it was because he was cold and needed the warmth. The wind was starting to pick up, after all. It was stirring the heather fronds more fiercely, whipping through Blacktuft's ear fur on occasion. He worked his jaw for a moment as if the words would spill out from his tongue on their own. Then, he found the words to respond, "Tallear thinks Patchtail's in StarClan. Th-That scares me. I don't want him to be in StarClan, Lostear. I want to see him come home. He's my closest friend… but he's missing. But if Tallear's wrong, then maybe all of this is getting to me. Maybe I'm going crazy. Maybe that's why I murdered that cat. Maybe that's why I assumed Troutclaw was a friend…"

"You're not crazy," Lostear denied sternly, surprising Blacktuft with the intensity in his voice.

Blacktuft felt his fur begin to lift and he stood up, crying out, "Then why did I see him? If I'm not crazy, then he's dead!" He backed away from Lostear, even though the icy wind bit at his skin, painful with how cold it was.

Lostear stood up slowly, his limbs trembling slightly. Blacktuft winced, realizing that the tom's legs must have been stiff from lying there like that. Lostear turned toward Blacktuft and replied, "We don't know if he's in StarClan. You long to see him so badly, Blacktuft, that you might have conjured him up. You're not crazy. You're not. But maybe the starvation is making it hard on you. What you need to do is rest, Blacktuft."

Blacktuft suddenly realized he was breathing quickly, his own legs shaking. His scratches stung from the battle earlier. He worked to even his breathing again, allowing his tail to droop. He kept his fur fluffed up for the sake of the cold, but the fire left him. "I'm sorry," he apologized, guilt rising in his chest. "I shouldn't have snapped…"

"It's been a long night," Lostear meowed softly, his shoulders relaxing when he sensed he wasn't going to find any more fight from his son. "Let's go back to camp, where it's warm. You need your wounds treated."

The WindClan deputy smiled sheepishly. Lostear must have seen his pain. Blacktuft nodded, following the dark gray tom back toward the safety and warmth of camp. He sucked in a breath of freezing air, stepping into the hollow and moving toward one of the badger sets the other cats in camp had retreated to. When they slipped in, Blacktuft felt the warm air blow back at him, eyes peering at the two newcomers from the darkness. "Blacktuft!" Redbird called to the dark-furred tom, and Blacktuft made a beeline for the medicine cat and Springfeather.

Herbs lay beside Redbird, even though he had been pressed against Springfeather's side only a moment ago. He stood up, stepping over his mate's tail with exceeding caution before grabbing some of the leaves. Blacktuft halted by the white tom, watching him as he began to chew up a poultice. "I'm sorry," Blacktuft apologized to Springfeather. "I didn't mean to take him away from you."

Springfeather gave a small shrug, eyeing him with care, and Blacktuft felt a stab of anxiety in his heart. He was so focused on her that he didn't notice Redbird preparing to dab herbs on his scratches until his flank started stinging, and he looked over quickly as if he couldn't have anticipated it was about to happen. Redbird laughed weakly and reassured him, "It's chasing away the infection. Your wound will feel better soon, I promise."

"Thank you, Redbird," Blacktuft whispered to the tom, sweeping his tail across the ground and dipping his head to him. He stood still, allowing the white cat to finish mending his wounds, and then he stepped away. He walked over to Tallear, his ears flattening against his head as he approached her. "Tallear?"

The pale gray she-cat looked up in surprise. She had been grooming Blackpaw's fur as the young cat slept, likely wary of the fact that she had nearly lost him, this night. "Yes, Blacktuft…?" she called back cautiously, studying him through shiny blue eyes.

"I'm sorry," the deputy whispered to her, settling down carefully by Grousepaw. He gazed at her, then looked at Blackpaw, sighing and letting his shoulders droop. "I'm sorry, Blackpaw… Grousepaw…"

Tallear nuzzled Blacktuft gingerly, then issued a caveat, "Things will be harder, now, Blacktuft… Cats won't want to listen to you because of this."

Blacktuft curled his tail up against his side tightly, murmuring sadly, "I know… I'll do everything within my power to make it up to them all. I swear it." He rested his chin on his paws, screwing his eyes shut. He felt Tallear's tongue rasping between his ears slowly, relishing in the comfort she granted him. He let himself drift off into sleep, his heart breaking for the gray she-cat who had lost her life that night.


	6. Chapter 5

**5**

There was a stillness in the air, that morning, as if the entire world was holding its breath. The wind that had blown overnight had gone, merely leaving the moor under a pelt of white in its wake. No cat stirred as the darkness began to drip away, the sun peaking over the horizon. The sky gradually shifted toward pale blue, reflecting the snow, which sparkled and caught the eye. It was as if time itself had ceased to exist for every living creature. Whereas the world kept on turning, life had been put on pause.

A cough disturbed it all, followed by another. Then another. Every head in the badger sets rose, almost in unison, and turned toward the origin of the sound. Pelts prickled and eyes turned round and wary. Tails twitched, and there was a rustling in the nests that seemed loud, on such a quiet dawn. Murmurs passed from one member of the Clan to another as they tried to pinpoint who had coughed, but it wasn't until there was another that they all knew.

Pelts scrambled past each other, cats stepping on tails and paws and even heads as they rushed to escape from the badger set. Panic had burst into the WindClan camp, and none of them were prepared for it. Blacktuft crouched over his sons and mate as if he was facing an invisible enemy, his pelt standing on end and his back arching. He dug his claws into the ground to remain as still as possible as warriors brushed against him, nearly forcing him to lose his footing. He was buffeted by tails and shoulders, but he was determined to keep the two youngest cats in the Clan from getting tripped on or hurt in the process.

All of it ended in a matter of seconds, and a cat lay, gloomily staring toward the clearing as he coughed again, tucking his muzzle. Shock seized Blacktuft from ears to tail-tip, though he knew he shouldn't have been surprised when he realized who it was. No cat would be, he figured, but it still eliminated any essence of warmth the black cat had felt within himself. Tallear gave Blacktuft a rapid nuzzle before ushering her kits from the set, the three of them bounding after the warriors who were now huddled in the center of camp, trying to keep warm against the cold.

"Lostear?" Blacktuft croaked, his voice shaky. The name echoed against the walls thinly, sounding quieter than it should've. The blood in Blacktuft's ears was rushing, and he could feel that his tail was quivering.

The dark gray cat turned his eyes upon Blacktuft, sadness in their depths. He rose to his paws slowly, coughing once or twice in the process, and he tucked his ears back. The two cats stared at one another in absolute silence. It was drawn out far longer than it should've been… Once again, it was as if life had quit, allowing the moment to burn into the deputy's mind.

Then, without saying a word, Lostear turned away. Blacktuft listened to every slow, gradual paw step the dark gray tom took, his breath rasping from the greencough he had so suddenly acquired. Blacktuft didn't feel the ground under his paws as he followed Lostear out from the set. In fact, he couldn't feel anything. He had turned numb, as if his emotions and his feelings had turned to ice from the freeze.

They walked up the crest together, son following in his father's paw steps. Blacktuft paused at the top, holding his breath. Lostear started walking away from the camp, limping from an old battle injury, when the sickness had begun. "Lostear…!" Blacktuft called again, his voice no better than before. Lostear paused, his tail lowering to the ground. He turned his head, his green eyes meeting Blacktuft's yellow ones. Blacktuft worked his jaw, spitting out, "You don't… You don't have to…" but he couldn't get it out. He knew he couldn't say it. He knew it wouldn't be rational.

"Yes, I do," Lostear murmured, voice so soft and gentle that Blacktuft could barely catch it. Then, he turned his head away, facing forward again, and continued on his way from the camp.

That was the moment Lostear walked out of his life.

* * *

Blacktuft's paws were still burning from running around all day, catching prey and bringing it back so it could be granted to ThunderClan. Horseplace, thankfully, was proving to be advantageous, and evened out their ventures. Blacktuft, however, didn't want to catch any of the lazy prey existing in that barn; he wanted a chase, and he would have one. He had spent the entire day chasing the few rabbits he could manage to find, crisscrossing the moor. He refused to spend a waking moment where he could think about the look in his father's green eyes.

The cats didn't need a body. They gathered for a vigil in the center of camp, where the cold white stars glimmered from an inky sky. Blacktuft entered the camp when the moon was already on the rise, stepping into the WindClan camp and padding toward Tallear. He heard Grousepaw call softly, "There's Blacktuft…!" getting up to look at the deputy. Tallear issued him a gentle rebuke, and the WindClan deputy joined his family. Grousepaw pressed against his side and Blacktuft stared at the empty ground.

He couldn't imagine it. His mind went blank when he tried to think of Lostear with glassy eyes and a mouth partially ajar from his spirit's departure. All he could think of was how Lostear looked in life. The tom's green eyes had seared through his soul when he turned his head to look back at him. Blacktuft vividly remembered the smell of his fur, which was coarse but as comforting as a mother cuddling a kit to her side.

Lostear's paws had been shaky toward the end of his life, but Blacktuft remembered when he had been strong. Lostear had been a warrior among warriors, though his name had been Rushfoot, before his ear was torn off. The tom had been someone a young Blacktuft had looked up to for all his warrior assessments, though it wasn't until after Blacktuft's mother died that the two became close. It changed nothing about the ache in Blacktuft's heart.

Blacktuft knew how it had happened. That night in the cold, with the snow falling all around them… it had been too much. Already, the group of cats was starving and weak, but the open wounds and the cold air had increased the chance of sickness exponentially. Trenchstar and Blacktuft were discussing their luck at not having a bout only recently…

The moment came that Blacktuft's eyes began to shimmer, and he shuddered under the weight of the sorrow that came crashing down. He bowed his head, his breath shaking. He unsheathed his claws and dug them into the dirt. He felt like he needed to cling to the earth, otherwise he would drop away and be swept into the snow…

Blacktuft felt a muzzle poking into his fur, and he looked over and reminded himself that Grousepaw was there, using him as a refuge. He blinked rapidly once or twice, attempting to clear his blurry vision, and slowly curled his tail around the gray and white tom. He leaned his head against Grousepaw's, finally raising his gaze to turn it around to the various cats partaking in the vigil.

Most of the Clan had held some small affection for Lostear; if they weren't sitting a direct vigil, they lingered along the edges of the camp, eyes glinting from the shadows. Trenchstar sat across from Blacktuft and his family, Torntail coming to join him and keep him warm. Redbird was scattering old fronds of rosemary upon the clear place where they would normally situate the body, if they only had one. The rosemary was shriveled from the cold, though the scent still wafted up to Blacktuft's nose, even if faintly.

Blacktuft forced himself to bite back the low, keening note that threatened to release itself from his throat. He watched, eyes swimming as he listened to Redbird whisper, "May you find good hunting and rest in StarClan, Lostear…"

A few cats glanced at each other when Redbird murmured this, and Blacktuft felt a flash of frustration when they did so. Lostear deserves a StarClan, he thought to himself, hating the thought of Lostear being gone forever. Perhaps he couldn't commune with the dark gray tom, but he felt some comfort in the idea that… maybe… just maybe… he would see him again, someday. Without that hope, Blacktuft had nothing…

He turned his gaze from them, focusing on young Grousepaw. He began to rasp his tongue between the cat's ears slowly. As much as he missed Lostear, it disturbed him to think of the fear that must be running through Blackpaw's and Grousepaw's minds. A death in WindClan hadn't occurred for a few moons. ThunderClan and ShadowClan were still miserably suffering, but WindClan had been slowly recovering. This brought back all the old pains with it. For Blackpaw and Grousepaw, they may not have been there when the thick of it occurred, and many of the sick cats never saw the two kits, but their worries for their father must have existed in their minds.

The Clans were not tolerant toward sick cats. It had become a principle to exile a cat and presume him or her dead as soon as they showed signs of illness. This principle had been proposed by Cloudstar, and had been agreed to by the other three leaders. It had been a unanimous decision, at the time. Now, ThunderClan and ShadowClan couldn't afford that, and the principle only existed for the sake of WindClan and RiverClan remaining as healthy as they were.

Blacktuft longed for a time when this wasn't true. He longed for when a sick cat could be kept in the medicine cats' den, to have a chance to heal. Normally, sick cats would be given some herbs, in case they happened to survive and could manage to return. Lostear, though, hadn't even asked for that much.

Lostear's green eyes flashed back into Blacktuft's mind. He stroked Grousepaw's spine with his tail with a little more purpose. There had been so much finality in that gaze. Blacktuft would've stopped him… but something invisible had seemed to hold him in place. The dark gray cat had kept his nobility to the end.

Blacktuft knew his murder of the gray she-cat was unjustified, even for the fact that he had been trying to protect his kit, but the sting of it wasn't as sharp anymore. He hadn't lost Blackpaw that day, and he wasn't going to lose anyone else if he could help it.

He raised his muzzle to look at the stars again, though they were blurry in his watery vision _. Maybe you'll meet all your old friends from StarClan, Lostear. Maybe there's no sickness up there; no death or pain. I hope so,_ Blacktuft thought to himself miserably. _You deserved so much more._


	7. Chapter 6

**6**

The world was coated with white, still, when Blacktuft opened his eyes to the new day. His body was quivering with stiffness from the cold as he raised his head and slowly stretched, his breath catching in his throat. Grousepaw stirred beside him, blinking rapidly and looking up. Blacktuft gave him a few swift licks when he saw the young cat's blue eyes flicker with guilt, not wanting him to feel too bad about falling asleep during the vigil.

The deputy stood up and shook out each paw in turn, watching as his son followed his lead. His heart ached with a fresh wave of grief, and he clenched his jaw, as if that would help to steel him against it. Blacktuft lowered his head and ate some of the snow on the ground, wetting his dry throat, and then turned to face the whole of the Clan. He studied each of them again, trying to consider how best he would assign them, though his mind was blank. He worked his jaws briefly, but nothing could seem to come out. He could see their expectant eyes, and his ears pressed back when he realized he wasn't sure what to say.

It was Trenchstar appearing as if he might do it for Blacktuft that relinquished his throat from the tightness wrapped around it, and Blacktuft broke in before Trenchstar could speak, "Grousepaw! Blackpaw! Torntail! On me for a hunting patrol on the moor. Heatherfoot! Springfeather! Head to Horseplace and scour it for prey."

"I'd like to take Tallear to search for herbs," Redbird announced, poking his head out from the medicine cats' den. He had been there for the vigil, but he had left before some of the other cats to start preparing herbs for them to take, to help prevent greencough from spreading to anyone. "And I'd like everyone to come into my den to take some herbs."

"You may have her," Blacktuft replied with a dip of his head toward the white cat, and he watched as warriors began to move toward the medicine cat's den to take the herbs that Redbird presented. They were all eager to have some; everyone worried that they would catch the cough Lostear had brought into the camp.

 _Focus on your duties, Blacktuft,_ the black cat thought to himself, trying to chase away all thoughts of the dark gray tom. _Now isn't the time for grief. You have Clans to feed._ He slowly made his way over to the medicine cat's den, following the line of warriors who had preceded him. Cats were snatching the herbs and taking them outside, where they could eat them and then wash out the bitter taste with the snow. Blacktuft glanced at the warriors as they passed them, feeling a surge of relief for every single one as they went. He didn't want a single cat to fall victim to something as simple as a cough.

When Blacktuft was able to reach the herbs, he grabbed them in his teeth and carried them out, following the suit of the others. He crouched down in a mound of snow, eating up the herbs before lapping at the snow, shuddering and forcing himself to swallow. "Ready to go?" Torntail asked, padding over to Blacktuft and sweeping his tail along his spine loosely.

Blacktuft looked up and saw the gray tabby's sympathy, and he fought back another pang in his heart. "Yeah," he meowed, then beckoned to Blackpaw and Grousepaw, who looked disgusted by the taste of the herbs in their mouths. He managed a small laugh as they joined him, then patted the snow with his paw. "Have some snow, you two. It helps." Torntail and Blacktuft exchanged an amused look as the two apprentices eagerly ate the snow, and then Blacktuft led the group out of camp.

"When's the next Gathering?" Blackpaw asked, gazing at his father with curious eyes.

"It's not for another moon, Blackpaw," Blacktuft answered him. "Why?"

Blackpaw shrugged and answered, "Springfeather and Gorsenose were talking about it." Blacktuft sensed fear wash over his pelt, and he had to force his fur to remain flat. "And I just wondered when we would go back and see the RiverClan cats again."

Torntail pointed his nose forward, announcing, "You can see them now, Blackpaw." Blacktuft looked up and spotted a group of cats at the shore of the lake, which seemed to have frozen over with the incoming snow. He could make out the gray and silver pelts of Hailwind, Milkeye, and Willowbranch, and he curled his tail slightly. Some of the easy going RiverClan cats, at least. This would be a pleasant venture, he hoped.

"Who are they?" Blackpaw asked, tipping his head to the side, and Blacktuft answered him, pointing to each one in turn with his tail.

"They're all good cats," Blacktuft added when he was finished, and his ears perked when he caught Hailwind's blue eyes turn to him. She stood, leaving a small hole in the ice and heading to the edge of the border, and Blacktuft bounded through the snow to meet her. "Hailwind!" he purred, his tail curling as he slowed to a stop. He brushed muzzles with the silver tabby in greeting, internally glad that RiverClan and WindClan cats could still get along, through everything. His heart remained heavy, as if loaded with rocks, but it was a welcome change from the last couple of days.

Hailwind let out a purr of her own, her eyes turning from one cat to the other as she asked them warmly, "How's the prey running? Well, I hope?"

"Well enough," Torntail grunted with a little smile, halting beside Blacktuft.

Blackpaw and Grousepaw had stuck together until this point; now, Blackpaw ventured forward, watching the foreign cats with round eyes. "I remember you! You were at the Gathering!" he recalled, nodding to Hailwind. He looked at Milkeye, next. "And you, too! You were there!"

Milkeye let out a soft _mrrow_ of laughter and said, "Yes, yes, I was." She sent Blacktuft a fond look. "Your son has a good memory, doesn't he?"

Blacktuft lifted his chin, able to feel a small burst of pride toward Blackpaw. Blackpaw glanced back at Grousepaw, then meowed, "What are you doing in the lake?"

Hailwind answered, this time, "We're fishing. Haven't you ever heard about how RiverClan cats eat fish?"

"Yeah, yeah!" mewed Blackpaw with a tiny nod, gazing at the hole in the lake. "I just… didn't realize that you fished in the lake, too!"

"That we do," Hailwind replied, backing up and moving over to the hole, standing beside it. "It's harder to catch fish under ice, but we can manage!"

Grousepaw shuddered, and Milkeye gave him a curious look. It was Blackpaw who spoke, though, asking, "What is it, Grousepaw?"

Grousepaw tucked his ears back and mumbled, using his paw to dabble at the snow, "I was thinking… I was thinking that… Well, um, I was thinking that the ShadowClan cats must hate having to eat fish. They don't like fish any more than we do, do they?" Blackpaw stuck out his tongue when he thought about it, though he quickly ducked his head and closed his mouth when he received a stern look from Torntail.

Milkeye remarked, "I imagine the ShadowClan cats didn't like it very much, before, but they'd accept it any day! We wouldn't eat rats and toads unless we had to, either. ShadowClan has to eat our fish, so they can live with it."

"Not that it was an easy transfer, though," Willowbranch commented, and the RiverClan cats laughed again.

Blacktuft felt warmth grow in his heart toward these three friendly she-cats, and he dipped his head to them. "May StarClan grant you good hunting. We'd better get back to what our patrol was intended for. We need food, too, after all!"

"Goodbye!" the RiverClan cats called as the WindClan cats turned away, beginning to march back up the slope. "Farewell!"

Blackpaw nudged Blacktuft's shoulder lightly, asking his father, "Why aren't RiverClan cats nice like that all of the time?"

"I don't know, Blackpaw. It's beyond me," Blacktuft responded, with a reward of laughter from Torntail.

His ears perked when Grousepaw suddenly took off, his white-tipped tail streaming after him. Blacktuft felt yet another surge of pride, this time at his other son's good running technique, and he bounded after him. Blacktuft squinted against the harsh glare of the snow and realized what Grousepaw was chasing after: a rabbit, frantically attempting to escape back to its hole. Having a target, Blacktuft shifted his direction, moving to the side of Grousepaw and the bounding prey. He could see Blackpaw and Torntail racing nearby on his periphery.

"Here, Grousepaw, here!" Blacktuft yowled as he ran close to level with the gray and white tom. Grousepaw put on an extra burst of speed, twisting to get around the side of the rabbit and forcing it to run toward Blacktuft. Blacktuft unsheathed his claws, his paws burning against the cold of the snow and struggling to pull out with each step. Yet, here came the rabbit, and as it neared, he plunged forward. It leaped, and he narrowly missed it.

A surge of frustration suddenly flooded Blacktuft, and he cursed angrily, "Mouse-dung!" Grousepaw ran past, spraying snow onto his fur. The rabbit wasn't lost yet, but Blacktuft's motivation seemed to have sapped from him. The distraction wasn't good enough, this time, and a fresh pang of loss spread through his chest, filling him from ears to tail-tip.

What was the point in catching this rabbit if they'd all die of a little cough?

Grousepaw had halted, and Blacktuft could see his chest moving as he ran up to join him. "What happened?" Grousepaw asked him, tucking his ears back and looking up at Blacktuft in irritation. "That was perfect! You should've caught it! Or at least kept running and helped me catch it again!"

"Grousepaw!" Torntail growled before Blacktuft had a chance to reply. He pulled up to join them, giving the young cat a harsh cuff across the ears. "Don't speak to your deputy that way!"

Grousepaw quickly dipped his head, his tail drooping against the snow, and he apologized, "I'm sorry… I just thought we had that rabbit! What're we going to do now?"

Blacktuft fought hard not to flinch at the fear and desperation in Grousepaw's words, and he took a deep breath, sensing more than seeing Torntail's and Blackpaw's gazes upon his pelt. "We'll keep trying," he answered, managing to hold together for this response. He had to hold it together. He cursed himself inwardly again for thinking about letting the rabbit go. They needed it, and they needed him to believe that they would survive. "That's all we can ever do: Keep trying." He flicked his tail and turned, starting to pad away from the burrow the rabbit had vanished into. The others followed him.

The four cats kept searching for prey, all hoping desperately to find something, but nothing seemed to jump out of its burrow. The moor was silent again, except for their breaths, and the blue sky kept it bright and clear. Blacktuft hated every second of the silence. His mind kept jumping back to those green eyes staring back at him from over the edge of the hollow. He found himself clenching and unclenching his jaws multiple times, caught up in his internal anguish. The fact that the one catch they could've had was lost because of him was tugging at his heart, too, and his anger was doubled.

Finally, he had to call it quits. The sun was too high in the sky; nothing would emerge for them at this time of day. The group of them traipsed back to camp, tails lowering with defeat that they had nothing to bring back. Even Blacktuft couldn't hold together his air of confidence. He couldn't stop feeling the disappointment welling up within him.

On their way back, he thought he glimpsed a flash of ginger and black. His ears perked, and he slowed down, squinting across the snowy moor. _Patchtail?_ he thought to himself, his breath catching in his throat and his tail lifting. He shook his head quickly, screwing his eyes shut. _No, no. It can't be him._ He opened his eyes, heart pounding in his chest, and his tail drooped again. Nothing. Only snow and sky.

"Hey, cheer up," Torntail spoke up softly, giving Blacktuft a nudge on the shoulder, making the black tom turn his head back to look at him. Blacktuft felt a flash of fear. Had Torntail noticed his brief episode? Instead, the gray tabby only meowed, "We'll go out again at dusk and catch something. Promise."

"Pray StarClan gives us the opportunity," Blacktuft whispered, trying not to let his voice shake. He looked ahead, focusing on the entrance to the camp with his ears lying flat. "We need their help."

Blackpaw moved toward the two warriors, meowing, "Well, maybe the cats at Horseplace caught something!"

Torntail nodded to Blackpaw and looked at the WindClan deputy. "Exactly," he purred. "I'm sure they've got something for us to eat, tonight."

"For the ThunderClan cats to eat," Blacktuft corrected him as they stepped into camp.

He saw the doubt flicker in Torntail's eyes as the tom replied, "For ThunderClan _and_ ShadowClan to eat. Don't forget that."

Blacktuft blinked, feeling a stab of pain in his heart as he lowered his head, the fight draining out of his paws and staying behind in the snow. He didn't respond to Torntail, heading over to the badger set. He leaped inside, heading toward the back of it and lying down. He curled up, tucking his tail over his nose and squeezing his eyes shut. He fluffed up his fur, trying to warm himself in vain.

"Blacktuft?" called a voice, and he opened his eyes and saw Blackpaw's head in the entrance, surrounded by the white light of day. The young cat stepped into the set, padding across the small, hollowed space. Blackpaw settled down beside Blacktuft, and Blacktuft uncurled so Blackpaw could turn into a ball of fluff against his side. He curled back around Blackpaw, beginning to groom his son's fur.

"We'll be okay," Blacktuft whispered to Blackpaw, flicking his tail against Blackpaw's flank. "I promise I know that."

Blackpaw closed his eyes, his ear turning back toward Blacktuft and twitching as he listened to him speak. He mewed softly, "I miss Lostear… I even miss picking out all his ticks."

"Me too, Blackpaw," Blacktuft rasped, his throat tightening with grief. He had to face it, here and now, no matter how hard he had been trying to push it back. "I miss him too."

Blackpaw glanced over at his father and meowed, "Maybe you'll see him again when you receive your nine lives. You'll see StarClan, won't you?"

Excitement dazzled through Blacktuft's pelt, but it didn't last. The moment ended as quickly as it had begun, and he responded softly, "Medicine cats haven't gotten a glimpse of StarClan since I was born. They don't even travel to the Moonpool anymore, Blackpaw. Besides, for me to have nine lives would mean that Trenchstar would have to…" He took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly as fear seized him again. Who knew how many lives Trenchstar had left? The dark tabby had certainly lost some to the sickness at its peak, hadn't he? Blacktuft narrowed his eyes, trying to remember, but… he couldn't recall Trenchstar losing any lives. Maybe he still had nine?

Blackpaw closed his eyes again and murmured, "Are you scared of becoming leader?"

"Is it that obvious?" Blacktuft inquired with a slightly anxious chuckle.

Blackpaw mumbled, "Well… even if it is, your secret's safe with me."

A deep purr rumbled in Blacktuft's throat. He nuzzled the top of Blackpaw's head, murmuring, "Thanks, Blackpaw."

Blackpaw and Blacktuft went quiet for a short time, Blacktuft's purr eventually ceasing as he settled. It was nice to have Blackpaw at his side; the young cat's warm flank helped chase away the freeze outside. Blacktuft liked curling about him, anyway. He felt like he had a chance to protect him from all the dangers of life in the Clans. So many dangers… Blackpaw was the one who broke the silence, though his voice was still quiet as he mewed, "Why are you afraid of being leader?"

Blacktuft rolled the question around in his mind. So many answers to that question… "I'm afraid…" he started out, though he wasn't sure how to begin. "I'm afraid because I'm not sure I could do it. I don't think I could handle Cloudstar and Troutclaw with the measured dignity that Trenchstar has. I don't think… I don't think I can keep the Clan calm and respectful. Did you see what happened after the Gathering? The cats were next to spitting in my direction. Redbird had to come to my defense to let me have a word in edgewise."

"Oh… I see," whispered Blackpaw, his eyes thoughtful as he considered what he was being told.

Blacktuft groomed Blackpaw with a bit more vigor, wanting to stow his feelings into the action. "I fear for my Clan, Blackpaw," he whispered. "That's why I'm afraid. I fear that I will bring WindClan to ruin."

"I think everyone would be afraid," Blackpaw remarked softly, glancing up at Blacktuft. "I would be, anyway…"

"You would be?" Blacktuft replied gently, his heart warming toward his son.

Blackpaw nodded, turning his head to look at him again with those yellow eyes so much like Blacktuft's own. He went on, "Everyone's looking at you to get them out of all their problems. That's gotta be scary."

Blacktuft smiled a little, the pain in his heart easing a bit. He ceased grooming his pelt to stare into Blackpaw's eyes. He purred softly, "You're such a humble cat, Blackpaw. I wish I had been more like you, when I was an apprentice."

"What was it like when you were an apprentice…?" Blackpaw inquired, suddenly becoming curious at the sentiment.

"Hm… I can definitely tell you what I was like," Blacktuft laughed. "I was rambunctious and squirrely until the end. I thought I could do anything in the world. I thought for sure that StarClan had ordained me for something!" He shook his head. "What foolish thinking. I was a normal cat, just like everyone else. Just like I am, now. But I met Patchtail, so I guess it was worth it."

Blackpaw shifted and nodded, burrowing his muzzle in his paws. He glanced up at Blacktuft, then whispered, "I bet you miss him, huh? Tallear told me who he is..."

Blacktuft murmured affirmatively, and he wondered if he should tell Blackpaw the same that he had told Tallear and Lostear. No, no… Blackpaw didn't need to know about all that. He needed to believe that his father was strong. Lostear had been determined to say that Blacktuft wasn't crazy, but… Lostear wasn't here anymore, was he? Blacktuft swept his tail along Blackpaw's flank, letting out a sigh through his nose. He slid out from beside the young cat, murmuring, "I should start pulling together the fresh-kill to take to ShadowClan. We'll be going extra far, today, and we should probably get moving soon."

"Can I come with you? I want to see ShadowClan!" gasped Blackpaw, leaping onto his paws and lifting his tail.

Blacktuft felt guilty about having to shoot down the excitement in his eyes, but he also experienced an acute fear that was stronger than the guilt. He didn't want to expose Blackpaw to any part of the sickness. He shook his head, telling him gently, "I'm sorry, Blackpaw, but you should stay here. Besides, I need you and Grousepaw to rest. You two have been hunting and patrolling non-stop for the past few days. _And_ you went to the Gathering."

Blackpaw protested indignantly, "But Blacktuft! I don't feel like I need to rest! I could run out there, just fine!"

Blacktuft mewed, firmer, "You're staying in camp, Blackpaw." He trotted out from the badger set, his tail snaking after him. "When you're older, you'll travel to ThunderClan territory enough that you'll become sick of it. And ShadowClan? You won't want to travel all that way, either!" Blackpaw pouted, but Blacktuft turned his head away, raising his own tail so Blackpaw would know that he wasn't about to change his mind.

Blacktuft twitched his ear when he heard Blackpaw mumble an "Okay," and proceeded into the clearing. There, he discovered Heatherfoot and Springfeather, setting down a few mice on the fresh-kill pile upon their return. Blacktuft swished his tail. It still wasn't enough.

The black tom glanced over his starving Clan, assessing who had the most strength for another outing. "Hollowpelt!" he called to the black and white tom, who lifted his head from where he'd been dozing, halfway covered in snow. "Gorsenose, you come with me, too. We're going to Horseplace to try for more catches." He looked down at the measly pieces of prey on the fresh-kill pile, feeling a stab of frustration. Even their capture of Horseplace hadn't been enough, with the moor so empty!

Blacktuft took a deep breath, allowing the anger to flow into his paws as he bounded out from the camp, making his way toward Horseplace with the two other toms in tow. He wanted to let himself dwell in it in a moment where it could harm no other cat. When he arrived at the old barn, he could feel the fires die down within him, freeing his mind from the clutches of his frustration.

He slowed down and trotted to the hole between the barn doors, crouching down and worming his way inside. He let out a small huff and shook out his paws when he had squeezed through to the other side, his belly burning slightly from the scrape. Hollowpelt appeared through the gap, Gorsenose sticking his nose in after him before pushing his broader shoulders on through.

Blacktuft opened his jaws, inhaling and feeling his mouth water at the musty scent of mice. He flicked his tail to one side and then to the other, and Gorsenose and Hollowpelt split up, their pelts darkening among the shadows as they began their hunt for prey. Blacktuft relished in the darkness of his own pelt, glad that it would help him in this environment. He stood out starkly against the whiteness of the snow, outside. Perhaps he would have more luck in here, where his fur worked to his favor instead of against him.

The soft squeaking of a mouse made his ears twitch. He twisted them forward, listening carefully, and dropped down low. He worked to remember what the ThunderClan cats had taught him, in the past, when ThunderClan cats were only weak and had the capability to hunt with WindClan cats to improve their chances of catching prey. Blacktuft remembered those days with fondness. Feelings were turning icy again between the two Clans, since Snowstar had begun to openly denounce StarClan, but there had been a time when the barrier was nigh meaningless. For a young Blacktuft, it had meant new friends and new opportunities to learn. As he grew older, though, he discovered it had also meant more pain and suffering as he watched those friends and extra mentors die off, leaving him helpless.

Blacktuft chased away the pangs, which only dug deeper into his side from his recent loss of his father. He took a deep breath, hating that he kept letting his thoughts run all around, bouncing this way and that through his mind. Everything seemed to spring up unbidden, recently. It had only worsened in recent days.

He set each paw down with care, balancing his weight between them. It wasn't hard to keep from being heard by stepping on something that could snap, especially considering how light he was. What _was_ difficult was keeping his paws from shaking while he did it. The smell of prey was only making him feel weaker, and he feared he wouldn't be able to hold down even a mouse, if it came down to it. His wounds certainly didn't help.

Blacktuft spotted a small brown shape skittering over the hay spilled onto the ground before stopping, washing its small ears and twitching its whiskers. It turned its head this way and that, and Blacktuft narrowed his eyes to help himself remain undetected for longer. A pause. He slowed himself to a stop, curling his claws to try to cease the trembles. He crouched, feeling the power in his haunches strung up and excited for release. Then, pulling in another slow, cautious breath, he pounced, his paws reaching before him, landing upon the creature and pinning it to the ground. He bent down, grabbing its neck in his teeth and pressing down hard, earning a satisfying crunch.

Hollowpelt blew past Blacktuft, knocking the deputy off his paws. He didn't glance back, however, too focused on the mouse he was trying to catch. Gorsenose, spotting the incoming tom, leaped into the chase, cutting off the prey and allowing Hollowpelt to dive upon it and kill it. Gorsenose rose, letting out a snort as Hollowpelt turned toward Blacktuft, hurrying to his side and reaching to nudge him to his paws. "Are you okay, Blacktuft?" the black and white warrior asked, tucking his ears back and lowering his tail.

"I'm fine, Hollowpelt," Blacktuft reassured him with a wince, his limbs suddenly feeling full of soreness. Lead had dropped into his paws. He closed his eyes, flicking Hollowpelt's shoulder with his tail. "You surprised me, that's all."

"Are you sure you're okay?" Hollowpelt's concern seemed to grow from the way the WindClan deputy wilted.

Blacktuft nodded and turned away from him, padding toward the other end of the barn. Frustration was restlessly expanding within his chest again. Why did Hollowpelt have to run into him? The black cat could feel the exhaustion rising inside, making him dizzy. He shook his head roughly and tasted the air for prey, wishing he could feel steady on his paws. He crouched when he heard another mouse shuffling through the barn, close to an odd wooden thing that rose toward the ceiling, gaping holes within its length. The black cat could feel eyes on him as he crept toward the small creature, and anger opened its fiery mouth again. He wished that Hollowpelt would just leave him alone. He was fine! Sure, he was unsteady, but he'd recover soon! His tail-tip threatened to twitch, and Blacktuft had to force himself not to let it. All that restless energy within him should be used on the prey, he told himself, not on petty things. Blacktuft's claws twitched and he sprang, baring his teeth as if that mouse had been the source of every upsetting thing within his life, up until that point.

But as he landed, Blacktuft's paw slipped out from underneath him, and he let out a yelp as he crashed onto his side, stars and black dots swimming in his vision. Weakness swarmed over him, and he closed his eyes as he heard Hollowpelt and Gorsenose rush to his side. He vaguely understood that the two toms were arguing over something, but he couldn't identify what or why.

Blacktuft felt jaws pull onto his scruff and felt some cat's pelt beneath him, his tail drooping over the warrior's frame limply. He felt his consciousness struggling, struggling, and then, slowly, it all slipped away, and darkness rushed to his aid. He was pulled into its warmth and its comfort, both of which had been ripped from him.

His eyes were blurry when he attempted to open them again, but he was certain he spotted branches over his head. Green blobs that sharpened slightly to appear like leaves. He closed his eyes again, and when he opened them once more, he caught a glimpse of the shine of water. When he turned his head slightly, he faintly made out the glimmers of sunlight catching onto a clear stream, no longer dark against any snow, but surrounded by grass. He closed his eyes and surrendered, and the warmth and comfort slipped away with him.


	8. Chapter 7

**7**

"Blacktuft. Blacktuft," called a voice into his ear. The black tom slowly stirred, letting out a soft groan. He felt something cold hit him in the face and he jerked awake, blinking open his eyes quickly and looking up at Redbird, who was crouched over him with his ears flat.

"Redbird?" Blacktuft groaned, sitting up and letting out a gasp as he collapsed back to the ground. He screwed his eyes shut and Redbird stroked his tail along his flank. "Am I sick…?"

"No. Amazingly," Redbird murmured, gazing at him with sympathetic eyes. "Still, it caused quite the panic in camp. I moved you here so you wouldn't frighten them. You're starving, Blacktuft, that's all."

Blacktuft let out a weak snort, "'That's all.' Anything else you want to tell me?"

"You were passed out cold through the night," Redbird informed him, grabbing a few mice and resting them down by the black cat's muzzle. "I couldn't get you to eat. You're lucky you're awake and alive, right now."

Blacktuft leaned forward, grabbing a mouse and biting into the stringy flesh. Sure, it wasn't as satisfying as a good rabbit, but it wasn't as if they'd had much better, all this time. Redbird forced him to slow down, not wanting him to get a stomachache, and Blacktuft begrudgingly listened to him. "I'm lucky, huh…?" he whispered, already beginning to feel strength return to him, after having food in his belly.

Redbird shifted over to his side, lying down beside the tom to provide him with some warmth. "Thank StarClan for your life, Blacktuft. You nearly lost it, last night," he mewed.

Blacktuft smiled at him weakly, murmuring, "Thank you, Redbird. Thank you… If it wasn't for you, the Clan would've…" His smile vanished, his eyes stretching wide. He curled up slightly, his claws digging into the ground.

Redbird ran his tail along Blacktuft's spine a few times, attempting to reassure the tom. He allowed a few minutes to pass, and then he told him, voice low, "Lostear knew what he was doing was right, Blacktuft. He did not feel abandoned by his Clan. If he had believed there was a chance for him, he would've stayed near, and I would've tended to him. He didn't believe that. He knew he wouldn't make it, and he left for that reason."

Blacktuft burrowed his nose between his paws. He knew he should feel relieved by those statements, but he only felt stung by Redbird's wisdom. The tom had seen right through him and his guilt. As much as Blacktuft would avoid admitting it… he liked feeling guilty. He wanted to feel guilty. He'd done too much not to. He meowed hoarsely, "He should be alive, right now, not me…"

"Don't say that," Redbird whispered, and, though it was gentle, Blacktuft winced at how much it reminded him of Lostear's final conversation with him.

Blacktuft closed his eyes again. "I will say it. I'm a murderer, and Lostear was a gentle, kind cat. I can hardly think straight. He was nobler and wiser…"

"Lostear left because he wanted you to live," Redbird denied, watching the deputy. Curse those thoughtful green eyes… "Hush now. You need to save your strength for the trek back to camp. I'll keep you in the medicine cat den until you're able to hunt again."

Blacktuft shuddered and shook his head, protesting, "Let me stay out here, Redbird. I don't want the Clan to see how weak I am. They'll all worry and they'll all believe that I am sick!"

He realized how much he sounded like a pitiful, whining kit when Redbird answered, "Blacktuft, you must come back to camp. They'll worry more and they'll believe that more if you don't. If you are able to walk back to camp with me in confidence, they'll know you are able to survive."

"And if they think that I've brought sickness into the camp?" Blacktuft whispered, his throat tightening and feeling dry.

"If they have any worries, I'll contend with them," promised the white cat, running his tail along Blacktuft's spine one more time, to grant the tom a little extra reassurance.

Blacktuft knew he couldn't argue with this. He turned his muzzle downward, mumbling, "Thank you, Redbird." Then, he curled up tightly, letting out a small sigh through his nose and trying to fetch some winks. A thought stopped him, turning him cold. "Grousepaw and Blackpaw must be terrified…"

"They're scared, yes." Redbird was honest with him, and Blacktuft had to appreciate that. "But they're strong, Blacktuft. You don't give those two enough credit."

"That's because they're all the Clan has," Blacktuft admitted, shivering slightly. "Without them, WindClan could be lost… We need them safe, Redbird."

"You make them sound like objects."

Blacktuft's fur stood on end and he exclaimed, "No, no! That's not what I meant! I love them. I love them dearly, Redbird, but they're the future of the Clan, too. If we don't recognize that, then WindClan will surely be lost."

Redbird nodded and he told him gently, "WindClan will not be lost, though, Blacktuft. The Clans have endured through many hardships. Countless moons have gone by since Wind was ordained by StarClan to become our first leader. Since then, disasters have occurred where our ancestors have thought that exact thing. No matter which leader we have, so long as they have faith in our warrior ancestors, WindClan will endure. No one can destroy WindClan when StarClan is on our side. Not under Tallstar. Not under Trenchstar. Not under you."

Another shard stuck through Blacktuft's heart and he turned his head away, shivering slightly under the tom's accuracy at inserting it. He understood that Redbird would be able to guess that he was upset about the nature of his father's death. That much wasn't hard, but was he so obvious that any cat could tell how little faith he had in himself? "H-H-How…?" he breathed.

Redbird gave him a gentle nudge and responded, "Medicine cats see many things, Blacktuft. Part of our job is to identify problems. I'm sorry if I've upset you. I don't think every cat can see it."

Blacktuft nodded swiftly, feeling some relief in that, though he knew that Blackpaw had still been suspicious of it. It remained possible that more than those two were aware of his uncertainties. Tallear, he could imagine, but if the entire Clan thought that he was wary of heading the Clan, they might turn on him in their desperation… "Th-Thanks, Redbird," he stammered, glancing over at him, though he couldn't bring himself to meet his eyes. "I-I should rest, now…"

Redbird rose to his paws, seeming to decide that it was best if Blacktuft was left alone, now. "I'll hunt," he meowed to the black tom.

"You can hunt…?" Blacktuft asked, his ears perking and his muzzle lifting. He'd heard of Redbird hunting for _herbs_ , but certainly not prey!

Redbird laughed and replied, "Of course I can, Blacktuft! A cat has to fend for himself, doesn't he? You never know when StarClan will send you on some prophesied journey." Blacktuft let out a soft snort as Redbird began to patter away. That didn't look like it would happen any time soon, but he appreciated the medicine cat's humor in a dry sense.

The deputy watched Redbird leave him be, pressing down into the earth. He was sheltered under the trees of the forest that existed beyond the lake, spreading out from the area around ThunderClan territory. The snowflakes that lightly spat from the blue sky above didn't make it far enough to touch him, for the most part, but the cold still bit into his flesh.

Blacktuft curled up tighter, trying hard not to imagine the faces of his two sons as they worried about him. He knew Tallear would be doing her best to care for them, too… but her deep, insightful, blue eyes bore into his mind, studying him as if searching for some reason why he had suddenly disappeared. He shivered, though he convinced himself that it was only because of the cold, since Redbird had left. He let out a small puff of a breath, tucking his tail over his nose and letting his eyes shut. Enough of that. Enough of that… He needed to rest, just as he was told.

* * *

What woke Blacktuft was the sensation of warmth. Someone was there, beside him. He pressed into the fur of the cat, taking in the familiar scent that wreathed about him. He smiled lightly, contentment flooding through him from ears to tail-tip. A tail stroked down the deputy's spine again, slow and gradual and comforting beyond anything else that Blacktuft had ever felt. Blacktuft didn't need to open his eyes; he knew exactly who was there with him. He didn't want to spoil it by looking, but he let out a friendly purr from within his throat.

Breath stirred Blacktuft's ear fur, and the reassuring sensation shattered. Blacktuft was briefly confused by what had broken it, but then he recognized it was his intense feeling that this cat was trying to say something. Something that couldn't seem to be released. It fostered a concern within him that overtook his happiness. His mind flashed to the sickness, which stole minds and left cats speechless and petrified inside.

Blacktuft jerked his head up, turning his head quickly and looking at who was nestled against him, his body trembling. He expected the tortoiseshell fur. He thought he'd see those sharp green eyes… but no. All he saw was Redbird, curled up in a ball and turned away from him. No cat was pressed close to him for warmth.

Patchtail was gone. Again.

"Blacktuft?" Redbird raised his head, twisting where he was lying to peer at Blacktuft. His ears tucked back when he saw the look on his face. "Is something wrong?"

"N-No," Blacktuft answered immediately. Perhaps too quickly… He rose to his paws, shaking his fur free of the light dusting of flakes that had attached to him. He took a few steps from Redbird, finding his strength in a manner that was far too sudden on its own.

Redbird stood more slowly, his eyes narrowing slightly. Blacktuft hated the suspicion within that look, so he avoided looking at him at all. Instead, he drifted a pace or two away, trying to steady his breathing. The white tom didn't say anything until he had ambled over to the mice he had let on the ground. He hooked one in his claws, lifting the paw and showing it to Blacktuft. He tipped his head, inquiring, "Aren't you hungry?"

Blacktuft looked at the mouse, then at Redbird's face. He was caught dumbfounded by the question. "What?" he meowed, his brow crinkling. Why would Redbird ask if he was hungry? "Not… Not really. Let's bring those mice back to camp." He took a few steps forward, bending down to pick up one of the two mice, but Redbird moved his leg in the way. Blacktuft paused, surprised, then lifted his head and looked back at him, his confusion only serving to grow.

"Did you see something…?" Redbird whispered, as if they were attempting to hide some conspiracy.

Blacktuft took a paw step back, not enjoying being only a whisker-length away from him. "I had a nightmare, Redbird, that's all," he mewed, glancing down at the mouse once or twice as he said it. "Let me take the mouse."

"You saw something," Redbird murmured, as if Blacktuft had said nothing. His eyes widened slightly, his tail beginning to lift. "What did you see, Blacktuft? Did you see someone? A-A cat you'd presume to be dead?"

Blacktuft bristled and shoved Redbird's leg out of the way, bending down quick and snatching up the mouse from the snow. He turned away from him, beginning to walk back toward camp with his tail-tip twitching. He refused to answer that. Redbird was a wise medicine cat. Blacktuft didn't want to hear what he had to say, if he was honest with himself, in the same way he hadn't wanted to hear it from Lostear. He was afraid of the grief.

"Blacktuft, tell me," Redbird urged, abandoning the mouse he'd been holding, before, and hurrying to his side. He moved in front of him, blocking the WindClan deputy from simply passing on by. "Who did you see?"

Blacktuft narrowed his eyes, his tail beginning to lash back and forth. He dropped the mouse and stared at Redbird for a long moment, and then he responded, "Patchtail isn't dead, Redbird. Don't tell me that he is. I've- I've been seeing him… occasionally… but then he's not really there."

Redbird's mouth dipped into a frown, and his eyes lowered, searching the ground as he tried to consider this. "Did he… Did he have stars in his paws? In his pelt?" he asked, still staring at the snow as if it would provide an answer.

Blacktuft shook his head, though his interest was caught by these questions. He dipped his head and dropped the mouse into the drift by his paws, then raised it again, tipping it to the side as he studied Redbird. "Do StarClan cats usually have that?" he asked, hope rising in his chest. "Patchtail didn't…!"

Redbird's tail slowly swished back and forth. "He… may be…" he mewed slowly, trying to collect his thoughts. "StarClan might be trying to tell you he's alive, Blacktuft."

Excitement washed over the black tom, his tail-tip quivering, though for entirely different reasons. "You think so?" he gasped, ears perking up. "Then StarClan must want me to find him!"

"You'd be the first cat in many moons to receive a vision from them," Redbird meowed, but there was no excitement in his eyes. Only darkness.

"What's wrong with that?" Blacktuft questioned, feeling as if he had done something wrong, now. The look in Redbird's eyes was nothing like he would've imagined it would be, if the white tom had heard about StarClan speaking.

Redbird reluctantly glanced up at Blacktuft, then stepped around him to pick up the other mouse. He halted there, then sat down. "Even if I'm right… and that's what's happening," he told him softly, "the other cats won't believe us."

Blacktuft watched him, sadness beginning to form in his chest. He remembered what Snowstar had said, before. "They believe the cats of old all saw hallucinations," he whispered. "They don't believe in StarClan, anymore. And StarClan didn't directly speak to me… I saw no one but Patchtail." His tail went still, lowering down until it touched the freezing surface of the snow. "Fox-dung…"

Redbird leaned down, grabbing his mouse and beginning to pad slowly in the direction of camp. Blacktuft followed suit, keeping to his side and letting the quiet of the day slowly settle. Blacktuft could sense that Redbird wished for silence, and he didn't dare break it by trying to determine a solution. The medicine cat was thinking, and when Redbird thought hard like this, it was best not to disturb him.

The two toms reached camp before they had a chance to come up with anything to say to one another. They split off, Blacktuft taking the second mouse from Redbird to head to the pile to set them down. He marvelled at his own speedy recovery. He'd felt so weak, before… How in the name of StarClan had he been able to get back up on his own two feet so fast? "Blacktuft!" cried a cat, and the black tom turned to see Blackpaw racing toward him. Blacktuft let out a purr, resting his chin on top of Blackpaw's head briefly before withdrawing it. "You're okay!"

"I am, I am!" Blacktuft exclaimed, gazing at him fondly. "I'm sorry that I disappeared for so long, Blackpaw."

Seeing pale gray fur out of the corner of his eye made Blacktuft turn, facing Tallear as she neared him. He touched noses with her, and the she-cat murmured, "I knew Redbird was right. You weren't sick!"

Blacktuft smiled at her, though he could see the relief in her eyes. He slid his muzzle along hers, letting it pass on down to her neck. He nosed her neck fur and mewed, "I'm okay. I wasn't sick."

"You gave Hollowpelt quite the fright," Tallear told him, and the WindClan deputy became aware of other cats drifting closer, eager to see if he was okay. Blacktuft stepped back, feeling his heart flutter in his chest. "We were all worried about you."

Blacktuft searched the arrangement of faces as they came closer, listening to their mews of encouragement toward his recovering health. "Thank you," he purred to the cats by him, brushing muzzles with a few of them. Some were missing, but… most of the Clan had come to congratulate him on his survival. He felt a renewed love toward his Clan. Despite everything he had done and the hardships they had all endured, they remained solid in one thing: They didn't want to lose any more of each other.

It was an affirmation that he had been seeking. The Clan was not about to fall apart. Perhaps Redbird had been right: WindClan would not cave under the leadership of Trenchstar or Blacktuft. The warriors were still warriors, and the Clan was still a Clan.

Blacktuft turned to face Hollowpelt as the black and white cat neared, stopping beside Tallear. "Thank you," he meowed to him, now, with the utmost sincerity. "Without you, I'd be-"

"Dead?" Hollowpelt finished for him, smiling and tipping his head to the side slightly. "I'm not sure about that. I think it takes a bit more than starvation to knock a WindClan deputy down!"

Blacktuft chuckled softly, the piercings in his heart momentarily fading away. He was still one of them. He dipped his head, suddenly overcome by his affections toward the cats around him. Tallear pressed against his side, and he pressed against hers, a smile stuck on his face. Blacktuft had his detractors, and he had his faults and his fears… but his Clan was still his Clan, and that was enough for him.


	9. Chapter 8

_A/N:_ _I apologize for the lack of updates in the last month. Third quarter was hitting me hard. With hope, I'll have the time and energy to write more chapters so I can return to my update schedule from here on out!_

* * *

 **8**

A few days had passed, and Blacktuft's strength was returning. The tom had needed to stay near camp for that time, to regain it, and he had hated every second of it. At last, he was given permission by Redbird that he could expand the area he could travel to, which meant he could finally go to ShadowClan and see the nature of the cats there. ThunderClan, thankfully, had seemed to be steadily recovering from their sickness, Redbird had told him, and the winds had died down. It was a sign of good things to come. With hope, ShadowClan was faring just as well, and the Clans were finally beginning to see their way through this.

The snow was melting when Blacktuft ventured out of camp with his patrol. He could hear Springfeather and Heatherfoot padding behind him, and he even heard a disgusted mew from Heatherfoot at the slush. A purr of amusement followed, and Blacktuft could imagine that Springfeather had playfully nudged her friend. Blacktuft paused at a rise, his gaze passing over their territory, with its bits of grass poking through the patches of white. He could see Torntail leading Blackpaw and Grousepaw along the ThunderClan border, and he decided to take the long way, so the two apprentices wouldn't be upset that they couldn't come with them. Blacktuft didn't want his kits to distract him on his first appearance before the other Clan.

Blacktuft clambered down the rise, gripping the rabbit in his jaws tighter, and headed toward the lake, the opposite direction of where Torntail was taking the young cats. The lake had broken of its ice, the warmer temperatures allowing it to free itself after some days of stillness. It was a relief to the WindClan deputy, who hoped desperately for warmer times and more prey. Springfeather and Heatherfoot were being playful, now, but last night had been especially frightening. He, watching from the medicine cats' den, had worried the cats would break their honor and turn on Trenchstar. A few cats had scraped by getting bit or scratched when they took their prey. Blacktuft shuddered at the thought.

If only the cats knew that Blacktuft might have seen a vision from StarClan, but Redbird had cautioned him against it. "You're not a medicine cat," he had murmured to the deputy. "They won't believe you, even if you do say something."

"Why can't you tell them? Pretend like it was your vision," Blacktuft had suggested to him, but the look in Redbird's eyes already gave him his answer.

Redbird had answered, "No. I can't do that. It would be disgracing StarClan for me to claim your vision. They sent it to you for a reason. You need to wait until they reveal more to you. Open your ears to them, and if something more is revealed to you, tell me." The conversation had been over at that. No questions asked; Blacktuft could see that he wouldn't be able to convince the white and red tabby tom.

"At least the lake is finally melting," commented Springfeather as the three cats approached its edge. Heatherfoot murmured her agreement, her tail-tip flicking as she peered over the freezing water.

"I bet RiverClan isn't all too happy about that," Blacktuft mumbled around his rabbit, imagining how Cloudstar would take the loss of range. They would still attempt to take whatever fish they could from the water, but their ability to reach further into the lake had just been eliminated.

Heatherfoot flattened her ears, her eyes filling with concern. "You think they'll be upset about it?" she asked. Blacktuft twitched his ear as he listened to her. By the tone of her voice, she must not have thought about that. "What if they demand more prey?"

"If they do," growled Springfeather through the mouse she was gripping in her jaws, unsheathing her claws, "I'll tell them that they're piles of fox-dung. We're already contributing most of the prey! No way are they pushing us to supply half of what ShadowClan gets!"

Blacktuft flicked his tail in the air to signal for silence as they approached the ThunderClan border. He peered down at the stream, hesitating before plunging into the icy water. He sucked in a sharp, painful breath as he forced his way through it to the other side, emerging with dripping fur. He crouched low, setting down the rabbit, and waited for Heatherfoot and Springfeather to join him. The three crouched down together, sharing tongues to help each other warm up.

Springfeather mumbled, "Do you think ShadowClan will be happy to see us?"

Heatherfoot shrugged, answering her, "Hollowpelt said they weren't very happy, last time we saw them."

"When is ShadowClan ever happy?" Blacktuft commented with purrs of laughter from the other two.

When they finished grooming, Springfeather swept her tail along the snow and picked up her mouse. She stood up, beginning to pad into the woods. Blacktuft was about to pick up his rabbit, but Heatherfoot reached forward and grabbed it in her own jaws. "You've been carrying it for long enough," she murmured, and Blacktuft nodded before proceeding with the two she-cats, fluffing up his fur to attempt to stay warm.

Blacktuft watched the woods every now and again, as if expecting a ThunderClan patrol to appear through the leaves. He dreamed of the snow melting away, replaced by the smells of prey and the occasional twitch in the shadow that revealed a pelt and eyes staring back into his own. He couldn't wait for everything to return to normal.

Normal. Lostear's normal. It had been like this too long, hadn't it? Blacktuft didn't really know of a time where all four Clans were up to speed. They had been worn on for far too long. That dream really was it: A dream. He'd never fully experienced such a thing. He'd seen scrawny cats in those leaves, bounding after prey desperately, but he'd never seen ThunderClan or ShadowClan to their full strength. His normal was when two Clans helped two others to survive because that was what was necessary to preserve the Clans. His normal was when young cats could be stolen by other Clans in their eagerness to keep their lineage in some way.

Blacktuft turned his gaze from the woods, focusing on the pines that lay ahead. His ears swiveled forward and he picked up the pace a bit. They were almost to the ShadowClan border, and he was full of anticipation to reach their camp. He slid into the pine forest, feeling the needles under his paws, springy in the patches where the snow had melted. They were approaching the camp, now. He could smell cats up ahead. He pulled up as they arrived at the entrance, exchanging a glance with Heatherfoot before he walked inside, lifting his tail as if his paws didn't ache already from the trek. Cats peered at him from the darkness of their dens, strange scents filling his nose. It had been a long time since he scented ShadowClan, and he had to resist wrinkling his nose at the smell.

From a patch of sparse sunlight, a dark brown she-cat rose, her green eyes glittering as she peered at the WindClan cats. She jerked her muzzle toward a shallow dip where a fresh-kill pile had likely existed. Blacktuft padded toward it, pausing at the edge as Heatherfoot and Springfeather deposited the measly pieces of prey. "That's all you have?" questioned a red she-cat, sliding out from one of the dens, her pelt standing on end.

"This is all we can give," Blacktuft meowed, lifting his chin as he gazed back at her.

A dark brown tabby nudged the red she-cat roughly, growling, "They're giving us prey, Yewberry. Quiet, now."

Blacktuft relaxed when the tom stepped in, feeling a small shard of relief. He'd heard stories about ShadowClan, not many of them pleasant. He had to keep from feeling some anxiety when meeting these cats. He looked at the dark brown she-cat, assuming she was the leader. He dipped his head, mewing, "I hope the prey will run well in the next moon. It's starting to warm up!"

"It certainly is," she responded, her ears perking and her muzzle turning toward the sky. She settled her tail over her paws, blinking a few times. "Let's hope it stays that way."

"StarClan knows we need the prey," Blacktuft remarked with a grimace, and the eyes turned toward him at the mention of StarClan. He worked hard not to let his tail lower or his fur to lift.

Yet, despite their stares, none of the ShadowClan cats said anything about it. Instead, the dark brown she-cat said to them, "You should go." She padded toward the pieces of prey they had given as tribute.

"Did RiverClan give their prey this morning?" Blacktuft questioned her, watching the ShadowClan cats lurk out of the shadows toward the she-cat. He studied them, noticing the hungry way they approached, and the way their tails curled close to their sides. Defensive.

"What RiverClan does is their business, not WindClan's," meowed a voice from across the camp, and Blacktuft turned, watching as a black tom appeared. Blacktuft wouldn't have noticed him if he hadn't spoken, his pelt blended in so well with the darkness! Blacktuft faced him fully, whisking his tail across the ground once. "WindClan cats are starting to act an awful lot like ThunderClan, aren't they?"

The dark brown tabby rose from his resting place, appealing, "Crowstar, the WindClan cats brought us prey. They-"

Crowstar stepped toward Blacktuft and the rest of the patrol, and his green eyes moved from one to the other. He had lifted his tail for silence, his command evident, now. Blacktuft felt a pang as he remembered how he had assumed the dark brown she-cat was the leader. There was no doubt about it, with Crowstar before him, that the tom was the actual one. He exuded a confidence that Blacktuft had not seen in Snowstar. Blacktuft felt as if Crowstar was peering through his soul, his piercing eyes narrow and searching. After a moment of silence that felt as if it had lasted forever, Crowstar stated, "I haven't seen you around, before." His eyes were focused on Blacktuft; he was addressing neither of the two that had accompanied the WindClan deputy.

Blacktuft dipped his head, mewing, "My name is Blacktuft. I'm the deputy of WindClan. It's nice to finally meet you, Crowstar. I don't think we ever have."

Crowstar studied him carefully, tipping his head to the side slightly. He turned, walking over to the fresh-kill pile and bending down to sniff at the prey. Blacktuft eyed the larger cat, whiskers twitching. "No, we haven't," the ShadowClan leader agreed. "Why is that? I've even seen your leader, but you haven't shown up in the last few days. Your warriors have, but not you."

Blacktuft narrowed his eyes, stepping away from his fellow warriors and moving over to stand by the other cat. He lifted his head, though he kept his chin lowered. He replied, "You're right, I haven't. WindClan has been busy catching prey and keeping our territory defended. We'll be able to spare more cats in newleaf, I'm sure."

"Your leader was a deputy, once, wasn't he?" questioned Crowstar.

"Of course! We'd never defile the warrior code," meowed Blacktuft with confidence.

Crowstar turned his head sharply toward the younger warrior, snarling, "Then why isn't he competent enough to let his deputy leave camp to bring prey to ShadowClan?"

Blacktuft took a wary step back, startled, and then he, barely containing a snarl, echoed, "What WindClan does is our business, not yours." He turned, whipping his tail close to Crowstar's face, and padded toward the exit of camp. "Let's get out of here," he growled, and Springfeather and Heatherfoot moved to follow him. Blacktuft was reassured to see that their hackles were raised, too, claws unsheathed and muscles braced to fight with the ShadowClan cats. They followed him obediently, tails lifting in defiance.

"I'll tell RiverClan you're hiding something!" Crowstar snapped after them, but Blacktuft kept walking. "You WindClan cats will lose all your prey over this!"

Blacktuft stepped out of the camp, ignoring the growls of the black cat. He kept walking until they were at the lake, and then he paused at the water's edge. Heatherfoot and Springfeather pulled up beside him, and Springfeather snarled, "I can't believe they'd treat us like that! Mouse-brains! Don't they realize that we don't _have_ to give them prey? We could let them starve, instead!"

Blacktuft gazed down at the reflection of the stars on the water, listening as Heatherfoot responded, "Crowstar had no right to talk to Blacktuft that way."

"Nor did he have the right to say Trenchstar is incompetent!" growled Springfeather. Blacktuft could see her reflection pacing back and forth, broken by the gently lapping waves. "He's lucky I didn't claw his ears off!"

"That almost turned into a fight," Heatherfoot agreed. "Would it even be safe for us to give ShadowClan prey anymore?"

"I know that you want us to support the other Clans, Blacktuft, because StarClan says so, but we can't stand for that kind of treatment! Those fools in ShadowClan have no idea who they're dealing with!" spat Springfeather.

Heatherfoot looked at Blacktuft, frowning, and called his name softly, "Blacktuft?" Springfeather paused in her pacing, looking over at the black-furred deputy as he gazed into the water. "Blacktuft, are you all right…?"

Blacktuft paused, blinking once at his reflection, and then he mewed, "You're right."

"Right?" Springfeather echoed, her ears perking in surprise.

Blacktuft lifted his muzzle to look at the two she-cats. "You saw the way they stayed in the shadows. You saw how Crowstar looked. His warriors, too," he meowed, turning and beginning to walk along the water's edge. He felt as if the ShadowClan territory was looming toward him, reaching its icy claws to sink into his pelt and drag him inside the darkness.

"Yeah, but that's just ShadowClan. We're talking about the way Crowstar treated us," Springfeather mewed, confused by the tom's words.

"And you saw how Crowstar refused to answer whether or not RiverClan was feeding them," Blacktuft went on, keeping his gaze down at the ground while he walked. He felt a flutter of anxiety in his stomach, and he fought to hold it back.

"Sure, sure," Springfeather replied, exchanging a look with Heatherfoot. "So maybe the RiverClan cats are jerks."

Blacktuft tucked his ears back, murmuring, "Or maybe it's worse than that. Maybe the RiverClan cats aren't feeding ShadowClan because they don't need to anymore."

"Wait… so you're saying that RiverClan asked us to start giving ShadowClan prey for no reason…?" meowed Heatherfoot. "I'm sorry, Blacktuft, but that's a little-"

"It isn't for no reason," Blacktuft said to her, raising his head and watching as they grew closer to ThunderClan territory.

There was a pause, and then Springfeather breathed, "You're saying… You're saying that RiverClan did that on purpose, so we'd be giving all our prey to ThunderClan and ShadowClan…"

"And starving out WindClan," Blacktuft finished for her, his fur beginning to lift. "RiverClan and ShadowClan are working together. Fox-dung! We-We need to get back to camp!" He lengthened his stride, and the other two cats bounded after him, a new energy running through them from ears to tail-tip.

They raced through ThunderClan territory, dodging branches and leaping over undergrowth, their tails streaming behind them and their claws unsheathing to give them a better grasp on the cold earth beneath them. Their whiskers were full of wind, their small bodies pelting without stop. They were built for this through countless generations.

The three burst into camp rather suddenly. Too suddenly, Blacktuft figured. Every cat was facing them, startled by their entry. "Blacktuft?" Trenchstar called, pausing at the entrance to his den and peering at the black tom. He frowned, then padded through the center of camp. Any warriors in his way immediately moved to the side, allowing him to reach his deputy. "What's going on?"

Blacktuft forced his eyes to stay focused upon Trenchstar, and he meowed, "I need to speak with you. Privately." Trenchstar hesitated, studying the group of three before him, and then he gave a small nod. He turned, leading Blacktuft toward the leader's den. Blacktuft cast a look over his shoulder at Springfeather and Heatherfoot, desperately hoping the two of them wouldn't say anything about this until he had spoken with Trenchstar and found a solution. If the Clan found out and no one knew what to do, yet… who knew what would happen?

The two cats entered the burrow that Trenchstar had chosen to be his den during times of cold and awful weather. "We've been waiting for you to come back," Trenchstar meowed as he moved toward his nest, patting it lightly with his paw. "I didn't want to let them eat until you were ready." He sat down in his nest, facing Blacktuft and studying the dark-furred tom.

Blacktuft stood there in silence, his paws frozen to the spot as he watched the WindClan leader. The fluttering anxiety returned, but it was borne by a different fear. Trenchstar flicked his tail and Blacktuft obediently sat down, but his mouth seemed frozen shut, too. He couldn't speak! What if…?

"Speak, Blacktuft," Trenchstar encouraged him. "Talk to me." Blacktuft could see the WindClan leader's pelt prickling with impatience. He was worried, of course! And Blacktuft was only serving to make it worse…

Blacktuft broke his jaws from the icy grip of fear, working them for a moment before he answered, "Tr-Trenchstar…" Why was it suddenly so cold? "Trenchstar, we met with ShadowClan." Trenchstar gave a small nod. "D-Did you meet with them…?"

"Yes, remember?" Trenchstar meowed, forcing his voice to be calm and gentle. Blacktuft could see the irritation in his eyes. Trenchstar wanted him to talk! Why was he struggling like this? "It was while you were still resting up."

"Y-Yes, well… ShadowClan…" Blacktuft took a deep breath, then shook his head vigorously. "Let me start this over, Trenchstar." Trenchstar nodded and Blacktuft paused, then felt it all tumble out of his mouth as he spoke, "ShadowClan was especially rude to us, Trenchstar. I'd never met Crowstar before, but he was doing everything within his power to worm under our pelts! The cats didn't look or act weak or sick, and they were all pretty hostile! I think that RiverClan and ShadowClan are working together!"

His words were met with a moment of silence as Trenchstar sat up, his eyes wide at the accusation Blacktuft had made toward the other Clans. Finally, the tabby murmured, "Blacktuft… you have to realize how this sounds. For RiverClan and ShadowClan to conspire against us…"

"Would it be that hard? Trenchstar, if we believed that ShadowClan was starving, we'd feed them to keep them alive. RiverClan demanded that we give them some of our prey," Blacktuft meowed, pacing back and forth, reminding himself of Springfeather. "But it seemed like RiverClan might not be giving them any. A-And Crowstar wasn't just rude; he wanted to know more about the state of the Clan."

"What kind of questions was he asking?" Trenchstar asked slowly, drawing his ears back.

Blacktuft glanced at Trenchstar, then told him, "He was asking about me. He was using me as an excuse to ask about WindClan, I know it. He kept pestering me about the fact that he hasn't seen me in the last couple of contributions."

Trenchstar's tail-tip twitched and his eyes narrowed slightly, his mouth slightly ajar as he tried to understand. "Blacktuft," he cautioned, "maybe you're getting ahead of yourself with this. Maybe you misread. You can go back again tomorrow, and-"

"Trenchstar, please," Blacktuft pleaded, facing him again and gazing at Trenchstar with desperate eyes. "I have this gut feeling, and I can't shake it away! We've clung to StarClan more than any of the other Clans!"

Trenchstar nodded and adjusted his position in his spot, murmuring, "Loudear and Redbird helped influence that."

Blacktuft exclaimed, "And you said yourself that the peace is fragile with RiverClan! I told you I was surprised that RiverClan would stay put like this, and you told me that they'd never do it on their own! What if they plan to go with ShadowClan? We haven't let them, so what can they do? They can't attack us alone, but they can attack us together, to convince us to leave StarClan's ordained land!"

"Blacktuft, that's enough," Trenchstar meowed, standing up slowly, his hackles lifting. What was that look in his eyes?

"You're afraid!" Blacktuft gasped, his ears perking as he stared into the tom's amber eyes. This all made sense! Trenchstar didn't want it to come to war. He was so frightened that he wouldn't possibly consider it! "It's okay, Trenchstar! We were afraid, too. That's why we came back to the camp in such a hurry-"

Trenchstar flicked his tail, cutting Blacktuft off, "Who else knows about this?"

"Springfeather and Heatherfoot. They came with me to ShadowClan. We were speculating," Blacktuft mewed, blinking once as a new sense came over him. Maybe he'd gone in over his head on this one…

Trenchstar was rising to his paws, his tail now flicking back and forth, and he growled, "Don't tell this to anyone else, Blacktuft. Tell them to keep their mouths shut. I don't want them to spread this around, understand?"

Blacktuft flattened his ears, his tail dropping so the tip touched the ground. He took a small step back, intimidated by his leader. "I'll… I'll tell them," he confirmed weakly.

"I don't want to hear any of this again," Trenchstar told him sharply.

"But Trenchstar! We should stop feeding ShadowClan. We need to take matters into our own paws and protect ourselves before we starve out!" Blacktuft cried, making one last attempt to convince his leader.

"None of it!" Trenchstar snapped, and Blacktuft took another step back. He strode forward, brushing roughly past Blacktuft. "Let's get something to eat." Blacktuft watched him leave the den, remaining behind for a few moments. He lowered his head, forcing his breathing to remain even, though it threatened him, trying to rise and make him pant rapidly. He shook himself and lifted his head again, padding after Trenchstar slowly. He sighed, stepping outside and making his way toward the fresh-kill pile. The WindClan cats were already beginning to rise, hackles lifting, tension between them. Only their leaders stood between them and ripping each other apart for that mouse and that miserable mole.

Blacktuft halted at Trenchstar's side, lifting his tail and fluffing up his fur defensively. His gaze flicked to the sky, and he dreamed of tortoiseshell fur. _StarClan, help us._


End file.
